Tamer Animals
by ThatDanishChick
Summary: Razer and Erol. They do stuff, and I don't want to spoil any because this is an ongoing series that needs to evolve, not to be spoiled. It's basically a lot of bootycalling and not a lot of plot. Enjoy! ((This is a Razerol(Razer/Erol) piece. Involves sexual content of a major degree. Involves... Angst? But not to a smothering degree. Reviews are very welcome.))
1. Chapter 1

Razer listened absentmindedly to the rain falling over the streets below. Lounging on a chair, he admired the room Mizo had directed him to. The place was his for the time being, since there wasn't anything to do for Mizo at 1:30 AM on a regular night. Razer didn't per se have a real place to call his own, but he liked to pretend it was his. He was fond of the furnishing, lots of real wooden fittings, a nice, spacey bed and a functional kitchen. It was a perk from Mizo, of course, being a most appreciated lackey. Razer would call himself a 'lackey' any day, if it meant he could take residence in a nice upper-class apartment like this one. Permanently, of course. He didn't sell himself out just that easy.

But none of that really took up his mind, Razer was really just having a blank late evening by himself. He wasn't doing anything in particular, just enjoying the peace of a cigarette and generally being there, and not planning to just to go sleep and get it over with. There was always a job waiting the next morning. So he let the night drag on.

It was almost so relaxing, that Razer was about to drop his low-burning cigarette right out of his fingers, until he stirred from the doorbell chiming.

A surprise, since most people would think; "Who would be at my door at this hour?", while Razer could only think; "Oh, so it's going to be _one of those nights._". So, it was a surprise of a pleasant kind.

He knew it for sure, when he could hear that the doorbell wasn't enough for this intruder to chime, but that they also knocked upon the wood in an irritated pace as well. His face lightened up in a smirk, and he straightened his robe before laying his smoldering cigarette in the ashtray, then walked up to welcome Erol.

The man by his threshold looked nothing less than miserable. And also thoroughly wet and just trembling subtly enough for Razer to see, that this man had been outside in the bitterly cold rain for too long. They shared half a second of looking at each other with kindness(Razer's side) and disgust for the entire world(Erol's side), before Erol walked with uncomfortable, harsh steps right past Razer.

"So… Erol." Razer decided to ignore the rude attitude he was getting off of Erol, and closed the door behind him. "What are you doing?" He looked once more, studying Erol, who was standing with his back to Razer, making a slower walk to a nearby chair. It slowed Erol's walk down, taking his gloves off and throwing them on the seat. First after that, could he answer Razer's question.

"What does it look like to you? I'm crashing at your place." Erol wrestled with loosening the chinstrap to throw his mask in the pile. "It's just for the night, though. Don't worry, I'll be gone before sun-up."

Razer thought about how bold he was, waltzing up and claiming a place to sleep in without even really asking. It was a good thing that Razer rather liked Erol's decisiveness and rude attitude, since it was better to be passionately yelled at by the less-than intimidating officer than being ignored by the fascinating man. He chuckled and reached in his robe's chest-pocket, fetching a new cigarette, having forgotten about the last one.

"What's your KG-division doing in Kras outside the Eco Cup season? It seems a long way." He lit the cigarette between his lips, dragging air in for a pause. "Or maybe you have a reason beside work to be out here?"

It would be unlikely, since work filled Erol's mind a whole lot, but Razer did now think about how it had been quite a while since Erol and him had had some time together. Scratching his brain metaphorically, it had actually been some 4 months since the last big combat race where Erol had duties in Kras City. He felt a bit disappointed, mostly in himself at not getting a day off to go to Haven in so long, but also in Erol for not bringing it up.

Erol grunted disapprovingly at his questions, pulling his shoulder-protectors off and dismissing them to the growing stack. He rolled his now free shoulders a couple of times in relief, before bitterly giving a murmured answer. "I've been in Haven, but I didn't feel like… I'm not safe being there. Tonight." Erol looked a bit ashamed, Razer noticed. He was probably lying, but Razer wasn't sure if he could flatter himself that much, thinking Erol got all the way over here just to stay with him.

"I took my zoomer over here, and it took fucking ages finding your hiding place, by the way. And I was in the damned rain_ for hours_. I tried 4 other locations before finally… Here." Erol spat out, sounding incredibly vexed as he tugged his boots off, pushing them under the chair.

"It's nice, isn't it? The best one of the 5 places you know I could be in, I think." Razer inhaled, then blew the smoke out of his way. "I definitely prefer this one to be were you crash with me." Razer always tried smiling as temptingly as possible when around Erol, but the man didn't look him directly in the face at this time.

Erol was finally down to just his full-body suit, unzipping it and shaking the clammy fabric off him with a disgusted expression. Razer shouldn't have been enjoying the act so much. His mind did wander, imagining what the KG armor experts were really thinking when they designed that, well, you might as well call it a cat-suit. Maybe it was Razer's mind, but it was far too snug and shape-fitting to look practical and militaristic, especially at a time like this, when it was shining with wetness.

Dressed to just his boxer-briefs, another sight for Razer to enjoy too much, Erol once again trod past Razer to the bathroom. He found himself a towel, not even asking to use it, before he started running it through his hair, collecting as much moisture as would allow.

Meanwhile, Razer was actually thinking about getting under the covers, motioning to the double bed and loosening his robe. Though he didn't have any plans for stopping his gazing.

He desperately wanted to compliment Erol, the way he looked standing there, curling his toes from the lingering cold on him, how his eyes looked so dark hooded by his tattooed lids, his body curving in such a gentle way. Razer couldn't believe what Erol's job really was, when he was handsome enough to live under Razer's wing the rest of his life.

It was a warming thought, at least, though extremely unrealistic for them.

He knew that Erol was not one to be charmed with compliments, unless you commented his abilities as a racer, probably, so Razer definitely couldn't suggest anything.

"You seem like you want to say something?" Erol asked, his tone was still harsh, but the words faded against Razer. It was only unusual in the way, that Erol never encouraged Razer to speak.

"I do, but I fear you won't like to hear one word of it." Razer leered, sitting down on the bed in only his briefs as well, as inviting as possible. And wasn't his lap the best seat in the room? Razer applauded himself internally.

Erol just shrugged off the comment, walking straight to the bed to slip under the fluffy blanket and taking up the side furthest away from Razer. He wiggled, wrapping his cooled off limbs as tightly as possible in the layers, sighing loudly when he was settled.

Razer took a last inhalation of smoke, then smeared the stub in the ashtray, before laying himself down, not the least hurt at how Erol seemed to detach himself from Razer's charity.

"You're not going to collect a whole lot of heat like that, you know." He snaked his arms and legs in to invade Erol's blanket-space, pressing his chest to his bare back, feeling how their curves fit together so tenderly. It was a trick, a cheap one indeed, but there were no rules as such. And if Razer had to be sleazy to get close to Erol once in a while, he'd have to thoroughly break that barrier.

When Razer thought about it, he had actually been in the same situation with Erol before, them being stuck somewhere cold and getting cozy to raise the heat. The end results were terrific, Razer reminisced as he stroked lightly across Erol's gently heaving chest. "It's been a long time, you know, Erol. And now you're finally here for a little bit." Razer nipped softly at Erol's bared neck, tasting the rain that had mixed with sweat. "We could celebrate, just do something together."

Erol did respond in a way that gave Razer a good idea of where the night was going, his breathing hitched just as Razer caressed lower toward his navel and finer hairs. But it was too hesitant to be right.

"Razer, I am way too pissed off right now to be doing anything. Together." Erol replied in a worn-out tone. He motioned to detach from Razer a little, but it was too half-hearted, so he didn't get far enough away to break the embrace at all.

Razer saw through it. Erol had gotten too rolled up in his pride and anger to properly express what he wanted. It was worth a last shot.

"Well, you say that 'right now', like there's no changing your mind." Razer continued, whispering close to Erol's ear. It was tempting for Razer to go ahead a little, though he was ready to respect Erol's choice if he wasn't at all down to anything. They didn't have a lot of boundaries together, but consent was important, and even if it was hard to distinguish at times, Razer always did his utmost to stop when it went too far.

He chuckled with his lips shut, and continued; "I know you hate innuendoes, but I'm going to ask at any rate; How about I dry you off," His hand slid finger by finger in between still cold, damp thighs, "And then warm you up so nicely, you won't ever regret getting on a zoomer to go all the way out here?". Razer swore he could feel a small change in Erol's pulse, and from what he could see lying behind him, he shut his eyes with a faint, desperate noise that died in his throat.

Erol began to give up. He was not even that pissed off. Not as much as when he was racing at 70 m/ph through the drenching rain to run from his responsibilities. He just wasn't getting over it any time soon. But he could forget for a while. When he ran out of the HQ and got on his zoomer, he knew he was going directly to Razer for some reason, and he… Didn't _not_ want to. It had been a long time.

With Razer's soft caressing of his torso, he could remember the last times more and more clearly. He cast him mind back to when they were stuck in a garage because of a power-out, making the automatic doors and lifts useless. He could remember how it was, breathing in so much burnt-off gasoline fume in short breaths, how they warmed themselves in the single-seated Havoc to the sound of their echoing gasps. The flooding memories made him feel suddenly dry in his throat.

Erol turned his neck just enough to make side-eyed contact. "How about… You show me?" Erol replied, whispering back lowly.

Delighted at the agreement, Razer traced his way to the spot, circling all around a semi-soft cock, separated by a thin layer. Those fingers tugged at the elastic band by the hips, freeing Erol to get a nice hold of him by the root.

Razer continued a slow trail of kisses from Erol's shoulder to the softest part of his neck, to the sensitive spot below his ear to his, now much warmer, cheek. It happened in extension to Razer feeling around the shaft, sliding his thumb over the head that was as soon as that slicked with pre-cum. His hand was tugging lazily to great effect, as Erol was already far past being semi-hard. The grip got more direct, jerking in a steady rhythm to make Erol actually open his mouth to moan. He had forgotten about how cold he was to begin with, as it evaporated with the passing second.

But Razer had more elaborate plans, letting go of him to run his hand up Erol's stomach. He removed himself from behind him, getting up to lay as tall as he was, on top of Erol, supported by his elbows planted firmly in the mattress.

Erol was red-faced and just about huffing with frustration. "You better not stop." He commanded, even bringing his hand up to grasp Razer's collarbone, nails first. Had Razer worn a shirt, he would have taken a fistful of it to threaten him with.

Razer sneered even more, moving a hand up to hold around Erol's jaw. "You have nothing to fear. I'm just changing the game a little." He then leant down to press his lips to Erol's, hard enough the first few seconds to feel the teeth beneath the soft tissue.

Harsh as it was, Razer took the pressure off to make way for a more wet, sultry kiss with his tongue invading his partner's mouth. Erol didn't understand his own preferences at all, when he tasted how the man had a lingering tang of tar and something faint and indistinguishable, maybe bourbon or rum, and yet it was fitting.

Erol gasped lightly for air, when pulling Razer's face away from his by holding at the hair by his nape. They exchanged looks, both seeing how vivid their eyes were, before Erol broke into a wide grin and snapped his teeth after Razer's lips, catching them hard enough to draw a droplet of blood. Razer was caught off guard, but he got back in just as fast, biting Erol back for good, teasing him with dragging his teeth past his jaw, to nip into Erol's throat. Erol breathed so sharply, the initial pain was almost too rough for the setting, but went back into ecstasy when a hot, wet tongue grazed his bite mark. Lips enclosed spots to suck fiercely and lick them over tenderly. Razer enjoyed it so much when Erol acted like he was the ruler of the world, because he knew exactly how to take him down a peg.

Razer kept a hand closed over Erol's groin, still feeling a full mast even after all the painful stuff. He never stopped being amused.

As Razer moved his chain of kisses further down, Erol shifted so to spread his legs more apart, anticipating were Razer was about to end up. He kissed through a field of ginger hair to get to Erol's upstanding cock. The kisses made their way up the shaft, ending up at the top were Razer let his tongue run all over the head for a bit. He didn't take his eyes off Erol's for the duration, even when engulfing the tip and twirling it around, he had his eyes fixed on Erol's face of dizzy pleasure. Razer didn't waste time, though, as he took it as far down as possible, then began a steady up- and down-motion.

Erol kept his hands above his head, clenching the sheet hard enough to make his knuckles go white. He couldn't either keep himself from staring at Razer and his enticing mouth working him like that, though he probably wouldn't be enjoying the sight for long.

Razer bobbed his head quicker, getting louder and more whimpering sounds out of Erol, taking it further yet by helping with a hand, alternating between going rapid and going slow as hell, driving him up the wall.

Erol was barely holding on to his breathing, it had all sprung on him so fast after the longest period of drought there had been in Erol's adult life. Razer had been his last, and being exposed to it all again flashed him unexpectedly.

He was starting to feel a familiar clutching sensation in his chest and an overheating pinching in the lowest point of his body, that said it all. Razer noticed how Erol heaved for air and how his eyes squinted hard together, and he let the pace drop to an all-time low, dragging Erol's orgasm on for as long as was possible. He started with a primal scream of release, spurting cum in intervals on the inside of Razer's mouth, and neither of them moved until Erol lay quiet and calm again.

Razer raised himself up, knocking back the contents of his mouth with a big swallow, and laid himself entirely on top of Erol once more. He checked if Erol was still conscious, which he of course was, despite being completely slack and seemingly unresponsive. But a palm had laid itself on Razer's lower back, stroking him in an appreciative way. "You've proven yourself." Erol said, opening his eyes to look at Razer directly above him.

"Like I hadn't proven it 6 times before already." He replied in a playful tone. "I know you don't forget things easily. You must remember the time we spent in the garage last season… Don't you?" Razer loomed over him. That hand from before moved up to rest at Razer's shoulder-blade, and Erol forcefully linked his feet behind Razer to shove their loins closer.

"Don't flatter yourself. Of course it was great, but it does take two to tango." Erol's eyes narrowed as he lifted his head up to kiss him very swiftly, tense lips and a lot of mischief laid into it. Razer would have none of that, as he went in for a more static lip-to-lip, holding onto the wet, smothering warmth for long, until one of them moved and gave it a little more energy.

Grinding his hips in suggestion, Erol prompted Razer to get on with what he really wanted to be doing. Erol had a hand down by Razer's crotch, rubbing over the cotton fabric, tracing a figure of great proportion, encouraging him while looking only into his face. "Could you find something to heat this up?"

Razer felt proud. "Let me free, and I'll see what I can do." He replied. Erol obliged, untangling his legs from around him.

Moving off Erol, Razer slipped his final piece of clothing off, and while being up, got a tube out of his inner pocket of the jacket he had worn earlier. He spread a generous amount over his erect member, ending up with slick fingers good for giving Erol a little taste of what was coming. Massaging at his sphincter and slipping a finger in did the trick. Didn't take long before Erol started whimpering, trying to get Razer to hurry up.

Razer heard his plead, so he positioned Erol's legs to give him the best access, while Erol could link his feet together behind him like he did so well. Razer felt the devil run through him, when he slid inside in one swift motion, as if to punish Erol a little for his impatience. Wasn't a horrible penalty, considering how Erol's scream was from the breaking new pleasure and not pain. Erol had been in the game for long now. It didn't phase him.

Razer was going to melt as well, he hadn't done it like this in a long time, and the familiar feeling of Erol was so present, and so, so sweet. To be lodged in him, on a bed softer than and as balmy as a sandy dune, privileged to watch Erol pant and flicker his eyelids in between thrusts, the mewling sound escaping his lips rendering him unable to resist doing everything he was taught not to do.

The sensation was more rough and searing than anything else, and Erol loved it because it was never enough. He wanted to be thrown around, shoved against a wall, anything while getting pounded like there was nothing to lose. He was unable to think and all too able to feel, as the world around him spun and the noises had no filter.

Both intertwined like that were loud enough for even the deaf to hear, when the power-hungry duel was based off of who could be the most vocal. There were no words, just sounds, Erol biting his teeth in a primal howl when Razer went as far as he could possibly go, and Razer growling like a violent engine revving under pressure when jerking his pelvis forcefully. Their screaming-contest didn't last forever, but it was their moment and their bond for that short time.

In the heat of the moment, Razer felt the release of everything at once, when he came in one long series of twitching shots, his head felt like it was on fire for the duration and was first beginning to cool once he had relaxed his arms from holding up his weight, surrendering to lay down in a puddle on top of an Erol whose arms were wide open for him.

They lay there for a longer time than they could count, Razer wheezing softly from the sudden work-out and not bothering to pull out of the spot he had embedded himself in, until Erol gave him a light push of his chest, so he could take a hint.

Erol immediately positioned to lay on his side and sort of fidgeted with his legs. Razer took it as a hint that Erol had gotten hard from before but didn't have time to relieve it, so he'd rather keep it down and away from him. Razer wanted to chuckle at it, but also thought it wouldn't be fair to tease Erol in a tight spot, so he didn't bother with it.

Laying on his back, Razer curled a little to the side, looking over Erol's figure and his back that was facing him. "Won't you like a shower before you take off?" Razer inquired, as he stroked a warm palm across the rather sharp curve of Erol's torso meeting his hip. The hip-bone poked out in a way Razer hadn't remembered from 4 months ago. He thought Erol had looked slightly under-nourished. Maybe the Baron wasn't treating him right, but Razer suspected that it was Erol who wasn't treating himself right.

Erol's answer was short and nearly just a murmur in the ether. "No, thanks." He pulled the blanket, which had been thrown to the side long ago, over him to nestle under once again.

"Is that so? But you're the one who's always on and on about the importance of hygiene… Especially post-sex showering." Razer replied, still retaining his jaunty, low tone of voice.

Underneath that, he was comparing with all the other times he could think of, and concluded that Erol definitely had a thing for after-sex showers. Erol couldn't deny it, either. It was a ritual he had done as soon as he was able. Even back then, Razer distinctly remembered how after the garage opened up in the early morning, Erol's first wish was to go to his hotel and get a long wash.

"I'm not really… I'll survive, okay?" Erol scoffed.

Maybe Razer was reading it wrong, but Erol seemed concerned to him. Concerned for his own safety, to be precise. Razer furrowed his brows, because Erol didn't get concerned about anything unless he was angry at the same time. It threw Razer off, when Erol never conveyed worry very well, he'd just get that much harder to read.

After a pause, Erol came back again to speak in a rather small voice. "Do you know where you are tomorrow?"

"No. But you can catch me on my communicator. I thought I'd given you my frequency a long time ago, but it must have slipped, or…?"

"I'd like to know." Erol didn't beat around, so Razer took it as being actually important for him to know. A little flattered, Razer got up to roam through his stuff, finding the portable device to tap in his digits. While he was there, turning out the lights wasn't such a bad idea.

He got back under the covers, letting himself curl up to Erol properly again, planning to fall asleep. Though he was enclosed in comfort from every angle, he was nagged by a thought, an idea that came to him.

First now, did Razer see that this was something new. They hadn't done it like this, in something of a safe space with a silent understanding for intimacy. It wasn't unpleasant, not every other time nor now. All that power-play was fun and all, but Razer could see some fun in being close enough to Erol to have just him and be his confidant. The idea entered his mind, but he later saw that he probably acted on a whim, when the question was said out loud.

"Won't you tell me what you were running from?" Razer whispered into Erol's back head.

But Erol didn't reply, not even with a movement. He feared the commander had fallen asleep already, but his breathing was too rough for that to be true. Razer thought he had too much shit to deal with as it was, he didn't need to answer a complicated question as well.

But it was intriguing for him to ponder. Inside his head, Razer had a hypothetical conversation on what it could be. Erol's hypothetical answer was something like 'Haven is trouble for me, and I needed somewhere to go where I wouldn't be recognized on the street.' or something more personal than that, which Razer at the moment couldn't dwell on what was.

Ultimately, Razer's best guess was that Erol didn't know it all himself, but he needed a place and needed someone to run some steam off with. But as long as Erol wouldn't open up, there was nothing he could know. So Razer stopped thinking entirely, falling into the cozy embrace and sleep tuning out the still ongoing sound of rain.

Razer softly awoke at one point. He could see it was still dark out through the slivers in the curtains, and he shortly after understood that he had awoken from the sound of Erol being up and rustling with his uniform. The man seemed to try keeping it down, but Razer was something of a light sleeper.

He wanted to say something. The problem was more, what would be appropriate to say? 'Have fun with your work today'. 'See you later'. 'Goodbye'. Maybe it was one of those situations were Razer should keep his thoughts to himself and not say anything. He thought Erol looked disturbed, but he wasn't able to confirm it, when it was so subdued. Erol wasn't doing much out of the ordinary, concealing his thoughts with a passive or aggressive behavior. Here, he was passive, but Razer could see through the dark silhouette of him, that he hesitated. He was about to open the door, but his fingers lingered on the handle. Razer counted the seconds, and Erol took his time before pushing down the knob and slipping out into a lit hallway. Razer didn't have time to think more, before the bed claimed him fully again.

Hey! So, I hope you thought it was enjoyable to read, with this being my first Razerol fanfic and first serious, ongoing piece. I'd appreciate a review or any constructive criticism that you'd like to point out.

If it isn't obvious, I'm not English first hand, and I do make slip-ups or sentences that don't make sense. I apologize, it's really important to me that I not only get better at writing, but better at writing in English.

Another chapter is being worked on. I'm planning to make it a longer story with maybe not such a tight plot or focus, but a lot of character-building, so if that isn't what you're looking for, I have given you a warm warning. But let's not get too serious, I'm having fun, and I hope you too are having fun :—)

Love,

Elisabeth


	2. Chapter 2

Razer felt his communicator give a buzz during a walk around the race-track. He immediately picked up, listening for a familiar voice.

He had thought all afternoon about if Erol really did want to call him up, because he had mentioned something with needing to know where Razer was staying the coming night. And right as he was, Erol's tinny voice came from it. Tinny and desperate, in fact. "_Where are you right now?_"

Razer was off duty, again, apparently not much to do on his behalf these days. He cherished the break, though. "Kras race-track. Why do you ask?"

There was a distressed sigh in the other end. Razer thought for a five-second pause, then started filling the silence out.

"Are you heading my way, commander? If you need me in person by the time you arrive in Kras, I'll be at the apartment in North Kras City, assuming that you're first taking off from Haven right this moment." Razer reassured. "I'll open the door only for you."

Erol didn't give an answer, but his silence before breaking the connection meant a yes to Razer. He was overall pleased that Erol was making his way over so soon, but he also braced himself for all those hypothetical talks that could turn actual. Razer didn't want to be right about a thing this time. But he shrugged it off, beginning to make his way home just to be doing something, and to mentally prepare for the worst.

.

.

.

Sun was about to set properly, as Razer was laying back in another armchair, staring at the ceiling. Once again, he had absolutely nothing to do. Well, he had lots of things he could be doing with his spare time, but none of them spoke to him right there and then.

Really he was just waiting for the ringing of a bell, but didn't want to be too obvious about it. He thought, it couldn't be right to just dwindle away time with nothing, so he picked up a paperback from his belongings to skim through. But he didn't make it past page 6 before a series of knockings came through the silence.

He got up, wondering for a second why Erol didn't just enter when he was there and Razer wanted him in, but he considered the impossible factor that it might not be Erol standing outside. But no, when Razer openened up, he was standing by the doorframe, out of breath and with a bit of a distressed look on his face. Razer was about to ask him what was going on, but he barely finished his thought before Erol moved over to clasp his shirt and pull him in for a sudden kiss.

First thing Razer noticed, beside the wonderful feeling of Erol on him so soon again, was how he clung to him. Just that kiss lasted a whole longer than Razer could do without shifting a little to stand more comfortably, and inching them both away so he could let the door close itself.

Erol never broke away from Razer, as he wrapped his arms as tight as possible around his shoulders. Razer responded with laying his hands under Erol's ass, so as to grab and raise him up in his arms and stagger to the nearest place to sit them down. It was, by chance, the bed he could fall back into, making Erol slam onto him.

Razer wanted to undress, wanted to slow Erol down to give them control over the momentum, but when Razer tried to pull at Erol's suit, he was rejected by the strict slap of a hand. Erol looked into his eyes, sliding fingers up Razer's torso to reach in for the hidden balisong strapped to his side underneath his coat. He immediately handed it Razer, then told him; "Just cut through it, please… Please."

He obliged, giving only half a thought to why, but not caring enough as he ripped up the cloth all around Erol's crotch to make a sizeable hole. He had been as careful as he could at his speed, though some thin, red carvings appeared by the cut-offs. It was apparently part of the play, as Erol didn't comment, just got to working on Razer's buckle, pulling at his pants roughly to get him free. He was in no mood to give Razer any position of great power right there and then, but it didn't bother Razer in the least, not when it still allowed him to play his favorite game. He gave Erol a little weight, grinding his body flat on top of him while wetting his neck with kisses. His partner kept kicking up a fuss, telling him; "You can do that later. Right now, we're doing work." with a grump and a searching hand inside his pockets for that little tube they had yesterday. He finally got it, and in an action that was very un-like Erol, he didn't remove his gloves before squeezing it out and getting Razer's cock slick all over and fully prepped. He did not have a care left for that precious uniform, it would seem.

He raised his legs up, hooking them over Razer's thighs, writhing to get them close enough for Razer to position and push himself past Erol's barrier. There was plenty of oiling, so the first thrust was as easy as could be, slipping all the way in with a very satisfied duet of moans from them both.

Razer felt better, hands grappling at the base of Erol's thighs to hold him in place, pinching his soft limbs with his nails. Razer pounced on him, giving him the fucking of his life, moving with such ferocity that sweat began to form on his lower back. He never did disappoint Erol in that sense. He was in a pure state of unfiltered bliss, letting Razer give him his best shot over and over and over, eyes rolling back and that accustomed spiralling feeling of tight pleasure making a knot in the pit of his stomach. Erol let his arms fall behind him, making his whole body slack and practically lifted off the sheets, with Razer holding him so far up to do so. Erol didn't even put a hand to his own cock, it wasn't about that. It wasn't about being released.

Razer's teeth gritted in a desperate response. He wanted to mix things up a little. In a swift, sly motion, he managed to push Erol's legs off him, so he could remove himself from the hole he was embedded in, he then rolled Erol's entire body around so he could lift his ass up and take a place behind him. He pressed inside again with a loving sigh, getting back into his rhythm.

Erol had no objections, as his still rather limp body pressed willingly into the mattress. His face was almost buried in bed linen, and he was taking it of his own free will. He knew Razer did this move, because the guy had a thing for seeing Erol on his all fours, which he took as an embarrassing compliment. Also because thrusting could be done so much faster in that setting, so Razer had an advantage over him.

He had no time to waste, Razer was holding nothing back as he screamed out loud in the heat of the orgasm, still powering on for half a minute before becoming still again. He slumped over Erol, weighing him down and panting against his back. Erol was making a strangled sound, before lifting himself up to slide Razer off him and lay on his back instead.

Razer, while lying down, thought it'd be good to seal his pants up again, zipping and buckling up for the time being. He could always clean up later, he was going to take a shower as soon as he was ready to get off the all-too comfortable bed. What he really craved, was a smoke, but he was also too lazy to that right there.

Erol sat up a little to take his head-gear off. All he wanted was to get clothes off, not on, so he slipped his armor off in the process and tossed it to the lions. He looked down at himself for half a second, then unzipped the entire suit to slip out of and toss as well, getting boots and the rest, too. He fell back, now it was them lying on their backs beside each other in different states of exhaustion.

Razer already wanted things, like a shower and a cigarette, but what he really wanted to know, was what Erol was thinking about. All that with him storming in, fucking Razer and taking no questions. When he glanced over at him, he looked ready to die. Erol's eyes suddenly closed in self-defense, his face was tense in an odd way and he breathed like he was about to cry. It was concerning for Razer, but he wasn't sure what to do without getting him even more upset, so he did nothing right there and then. Wasn't Erol terribly cold lying exposed and not making any efforts to pull the blanket over himself?

Erol said nothing either, but in his distressed moments, he began to curl up to Razer's side. The other man welcomed it, taking the lead to wind his arms around him and move them closer with Erol nearly draped on top of Razer. Razer too, was taking no questions. He kept holding Erol reassuringly, sliding a comforting hand over the hill of his back and he began murmuring a melody of a song at the back of his head, not being able to put a name on it, but able to hum it low enough to just barely hear. It gave a peaceful serenity to the scene of them, resting on the bed in the last light of the sun that had set.

Razer didn't keep track of the time. He thought a half hour, maybe 40 minutes had gone by, before Erol propped himself up, tired on his elbows. He had a weird look on him, staring all over Razer with both dismay and powerlessness. It absolutely didn't suit Erol, not in Erol's opinion. In Razer's opinion, he was a delight no matter what mask he wore. It simply didn't make a difference.

"Don't you have something you should be doing?" Erol murmured. They were close enough for it to sound much louder than his shrunken voice really was.

"Like work?" Razer questioned. "Because if so, then no. We live in trying times, us criminals." He tried perking the atmosphere up. Erol's stare and expression didn't waver.

Then, he opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but no words came out. There was a wetness in his eyes that wasn't there before. The next time he blinked, it dripped from his eye down on to Razer's cheek, the drop rolling off him. He still didn't say a thing, but lowered his head again, letting Razer comfort him in his warm personal sphere again, caressing his back and allowing him to wet his shirt with all the bottled up feelings that were clearly coming out.

"Did a special incident spark this?" Razer said back in a hushed tone, hoping for an answer so he could understand this, to generally understand Erol better. He had not ever seen him get so close to a breakthrough as now, and really it was all for the best, probably.

Erol breathed hard, trying to get the water to stop shedding. "I… I did something really…" He paused to take the courage for the next step. "I fucked up. _I fucked up_, but I had to fuck up."

His face lied in the nook of Razer's neck, his fingers cradling his head while he sobbed in louder and louder wails of pain. Razer never let his hold slip, he kept slowly rubbing along Erol's bare shoulders, whispering; "_It__'__s all right. It__'__s safe for you here with me. You can cry for as long as you need, Erol. Don__'__t blame yourself too much, no matter what you did._". He needn't say anything else, what he needed to do, was to assure him that if there ever was a secure site, it would be with him.

"_They__'__re going to find me, they__'__re going to hunt me down. I betrayed them all._" Erol's voice was muffled and nearly drowned out with tears.

"What was it, that you did?" Razer wished Erol would look up at him, but that was likely too much to ask of him in his remorseful state. Erol kept his face down, but Razer could see that his hands that were clamped in his hair, started to loosen up, getting some color back in his knuckles.

"You're gonna laugh at me when you figure what I've done." Erol said, entirely bitter and resigned. He took a very deep breath, trying to level out the need to cry.

"I went up and quit the K.G."

To Razer, it was the most surprising moment in their relationship, he wanted to gasp but held it back. The words had actually come out of Erol's mouth, and he heard them clear and loud enough for it to be real. Erol, a devoted K.G. commander, had left his career in the dust for reasons still unknown.

Razer for once didn't find anything Erol said about the Krimzon Guard a laughing matter. He stopped in his tracks of easing his hands over Erol's back to really consider this. What drives someone who is so devoted to their job, to stand down?

Razer, being the fair soul he was, didn't want to pry the answer out of Erol so much. He had gotten a little carried away already, but this was where he drew the line. He could relate, not wanting to have all of his private life prodded at. Erol was in such a frighteningly emotional state, too, it was not wise to bother the distressed man.

Minutes passed. Nothing was exchanged between them, until Erol dug up his face from the chest he was buried in, tilting his head more on its side so to avoid looking directly at Razer. "I'll go soon. But I need… A favour." He rubbed his reddened eyes, wiped his wet cheeks and finally looked into Razer's eyes. "I need a pair of clothes. Just whatever you have that you don't need. I can compensate for them." Erol continued. Razer now understood why he had been so rough to his uniform before; it was going to be disposed of, Erol needed now to hide as well as he could. The iconic blue and yellow suit was too much of an eye-catcher.

"I do have something, but you don't have to pay me for it. And, Erol," Razer tried to sit up a little more, still holding the eye-contact. "If you need more time, if you need to stay in hiding for longer, then you can have that, too. No compensation. You're very welcome, as long as you know that I would help you with anything."

Erol decided to sit up proper, too, straightening his back. He sighed, which Razer took as a sign of approval, more or less. It was complicated.

"I don't know how soon there will be someone after me. I didn't quit. Not in the traditional sense." Erol covered his trembling legs with the nearby blanket.

"I didn't tell anyone. I took a chance, turned off my communicator, I fled and I have no idea when someone will notice. The second someone tries to contact me, I suppose they will know something is up. I keep thinking, maybe the Baron would mistake it for an accident, and I'll be in the safe for a little longer. I can't stop thinking about when that'll be."

Razer straightened out his posture, listening carefully with no questions for now. I wasn't his place to lecture Erol on what to do. He wouldn't have any advice to give, anyway.

"I didn't want to bother you with this shit. It's inexscusable. But I really need your help."

Razer smiled warmly. It was, after all, a compliment.

"You, a bother? Erol, even in such a predicament, you're no less important to me than other times." He swung his legs off the bed, getting up to rummage through the clothes he had packed away in a handy bag. Not having a real apartment for himself, he didn't ever have a reason to use the wardrobes in the different flats for storing. From his collection, he got out a basic pair of cobalt pants, one white shirt, socks and the like. He piled it up to hand directly to Erol, who muttered a 'Thanks' before he got up from his seated position to dress himself.

Razer sat back to digest the situation at hand. He wasn't really afraid that Erol would be intercepted by the Guard, tortured or murdered for treachery, Erol would find a way of avoiding that as professionally as possible once he had calmed down from the initial shock. Knowing him, what Razer was afraid of, was that Erol never would get over the initial shock. He didn't get past minor emotional breakdowns with ease, whenever Erol got agitated, he could hold onto it for hours, sometimes days. Razer was afraid this could have broken him. He would have to wait and see. In the meantime, he could let Erol be as close to him as possible, creating that shielded bubble of comfort he desperately needed.

Erol straigthened out the new shirt. He peered into the tall mirror not far away, looking indifferently at himself. "I don't think this will conceal me, but it's a start." He then traced a hand over the tip of his ear, specifically over the tattooed ribbons. "Not when this is irreversible." Erol felt the jagged lines underneath his eyes, the tattoos that marked him.

Razer had an idea in an instant. He walked up to stand close behind him. "There is a remedy for that, I should think. You could be treated with a light eco injection to make your body reject the pigment and regenerate cells. A blank canvas, yet again." Razer could suddenly feel how raspy his throat was, and he reached for a cigarette to light up.

"In the meanwhile, you could cover it with make up." He puffed, looking at how Erol was weighing his options.

"I don't know how to think further right now. I need… I need a shower." Erol began unbuttoning the shirt already, walking the short path to the bathroom. Razer looked after him, how he let the garment fall into a trail behind him. Erol often did that, but he had never done it with such a resigned manner before.

Razer smoked two more cigarettes in the lounging chair in the time it took Erol to finish showering and getting redressed. He could feel that it was going to be difficult having such peaceful evenings with him after this, so Razer treasured the little moments of them being near each other in silence. He was going to need it.

.

.

.

((I can't believe I hit nearly 8000 words. It took long, but it's not what matters. I hope to find a way of continuing the series, but until then, this is the closure. Kind-of-sort-of.))


	3. Chapter 3

It was after hours, long after the last lap had been driven and the last camera had been turned off. Something of a spectacular day of combat racing it had been, with not just any run-of-the-mill race going on, but the actual Eco Cup semi final held in Kras Stadium race-track, with the biggest crowd yet and the most dramatic solution. Razer had taken the gold home in a literal chariot of fire as he was driving with barely half a car left in the last 100 feet, but still made it to beat everyone else. Impressive, that you know what to do when you have to steer half the set of wheels you usually have and still make it to 1st place.

The elevator door opened, and he took a step onto the ramp immediately outside it. Erol had gone from the stadium back to the communal garage, not stopping anywhere to change out of his KG-uniform or do any side-errands. It was on the way back to the place he was staying at, so he made his visit as a part of his journey, since he didn't want the bother of going back and forth, even once.

Erol wanted to check out the garage for a lot of reasons, he claimed, but mostly to see the ruins of Razer's car. The car Razer had leapt out of, looking spotless and completely unharmed by the moment he crossed the finish-line, which he apparently was despite the horrific state of the car itself.

He wanted to know how the hell he couldn't have gotten at least a scratch from all that competitive racing, if he was seated in an especially lucky way or what. It was beginning to bug him. Nothing else to do, but snoop around for the answer.

He had a good look around the cars that were lined up left and right, most of which had gotten patch-repairs from the day's hardships. Erol craned his neck some to survey the large room better, and he spotted a pile of charred junk by the back. He made it over there, finally seeing up close how messed up the whole thing had gotten; It was as if a chunk had been bitten out of the front, and a violent fire had eaten away at the borders. He examined the closeness of the 'bite-mark' in the driver's seat, which was so dangerously close, Erol thought Razer must have scooted in the nick of time to avoid it. He ran a hand over the ripped up chassis, thinking about how powerful an eco-surge cannon really was when used destructively.

"_He must have the Precursors watching over him or something. Though I__'__m sure it__'__s just his natural damned luck._" Erol thought, standing still for a few silent moments. He wanted to get on his way again, but he was stirred from his thoughtless state, when a weight was placed on his shoulder. His instinct made him turn swiftly, raising all defenses, but his other senses made him lower them again when he saw, that the weight from before had been a hand, and that hand was Razer's. Erol had a lot of questions suddenly.

"Razer?" Erol's uttered his first 'question', squinting his eyes at the man who had apparently lurked behind him previously. Razer was dressed as usual, looking normal, but with his coat off and his arms bared. He looked like he had been tinkering with a motor from first glance of his oil-stained hands.

"Erol," Razer smiled, brightly turning up the charm. "I didn't expect you to make it over here at this time. I was actually expecting to see you around your quarters, not mine." He was holding a pack of smokes, from which he fished one out to light up. His fingers left sticky, black marks on the container. He could use some detergent.

Erol was still looking at him with a bit of disdain, but also an amount of pleasant surprise. "What in all the names of Precursors were you doing, sneaking up behind me?" He huffed.

Razer shrugged momentarily, smiling only wider.

"It wouldn't be fun to just greet you the moment I saw you enter the garage, now would it?" Fitting for his attitude, Razer took a deep drag of his cigarette and nearly blew the smoke back in Erol's face. Once the cloud had dissipated, Erol took a deep breath himself.

"I'm sure it wouldn't be for you." He looked around, trying to figure out what Razer was working on, but gave up quickly with a sigh.

"What were you doing, _really_? Down here, several hours after the race had ended…" It had only taken Erol so long to swing by, because he had an actual job that took place after the motors had cooled, a job as head of the security-administration around the stadium.

Razer, on the other hand, had a job as a guy who sits in a car for 90 minutes a day, and has to avoid getting blown up.

"I was giving my car a long look-over, in case something was out of order for the next Cup race. Well, my _new_ car, because as you know, my Howler is no longer in play." Razer pointed, with his cigarette, to his right and Erol's eyes followed the 'arrow'.

Some 20 feet away from where the wreckage was left and they both were standing, a mint vehicle was parked. Erol couldn't recognize the brand or type by first look, so he walked toward it to examine closer.

Just the chassis gave off the idea that it was a powerful car, though nothing in particular made him think so, it was just the general vibe it spread around it. He could imagine the roar of it, maybe it was one of those cars that sounded like an enormous wumpbee hive when revved. Just an arbitrary thought.

"How can you just have a relief car on _standby_ like that?" Erol stepped around it, circling it with his eyes. He gently tapped the wheel with the tip of his boot, thinking to himself; "_Vulcanic rubber. Quality._".

Razer, who was evidently in a good mood, tutted at Erol in a condescending, teasing tone. He turned his back to make his way for the sink. "I'm a racer. I have to be prepared to lose half a car at any moment." Erol made no comment on the tutting, though he certainly noticed.

"It's the fantastic thing, too, about being a professional. If you end up in a situation like mine, you won't even have to wait another second for a new model. Sponsors are the real miracle-makers around here." Razer walked over to stand across from Erol, with the car wedged between them. He turned his head to make small smoke-rings fly through the air beside them.

Erol idly watched, while the silence grew to a halt in the conversation. All that could be heard, was the splish-splash sound of water running over hands.

But Razer was the man of the day, the invincible man, and he had the confidence to kickstart the social interaction anew.

"So, while you were doing all your busy, busy guard-work around the stadium, did you see the final moments with your own eyes?" His voice was weird from speaking through cigarette-holding lips.

Razer knew that Erol had at least heard of the crash, since everyone was talking about it, but chances was that Erol wasn't even out in the open part of the stadium at that crucial point in the race. Erol sensed that Razer wanted validation from him by asking that. He smiled tightly.

"I was standing right at the commentator's peek when the first blow hit you. I wasn't about to take my eyes off when it was getting so good." He stepped slowly around to stand at the grills of the car, leaning a little back careful to not outright sit down on the hood.

"Mmh-hm," Razer made a satisfied sound, clearly getting what he had bargained for. "That's good news. Did you fret?" His sleazy attitude was well over the line. But Erol went with it.

"I thought; 'If he hasn't been split vertically, then he must be burning up, and if he isn't doing that, then he must be choking on metal shards and smoke. And if he isn't doing _that_, then he must have gotten a nasty stain on his coat.', so I lost a bet today. Well, I have actually lost two bets, now I think about it. I didn't put money on _you_."

Razer chortled. "I must say, I thought I was going to die or be impaired for the rest of my life, but the fact that you didn't trust me to win is what really hurts to think about."

Erol brushed off the 'sentiment'. "Quit that talking. You're a grown-ass man."

"_Ja, ja_, but on the other hand, it pleases me that you're keeping me company now instead of later."

That silence swaddled them once again. Erol had a suspicion what was going to go down, and he ultimately wanted to get to it now or later. He chose to break the quiet by himself to get to the point faster.

"… But how in the world _did_ you survive?" He looked directly over at Razer, who pondered for a moment.

"I drive safe, that's what. I know it doesn't look like it. But bottom line is, if I hadn't driven safe when the car failed, I would definitely be hurt or dead. Though, I really don't know how I could be _so_ lucky. I don't suppose the Precursors are watching over my actions."

Within the same second Razer's mouth had closed, all light dropped. All went black, all except for the orange glow of the cigarette. All background-noise stopped right there. Both their pulses made a shock-jump in that one second.

Erol's first action was to swear aloud, on reflex. His eyes were terrible at adjusting to darkness, but he quickly realised that there was nothing to adjust to. They were in a garage basement with no windows to the outer world. It couldn't get darker.

He wasn't one to be claustrophobic, he couldn't be if he was going to be a successful commander, so he didn't let himself panic. After 20 seconds of the otherwise silent darkness, Erol remembered the eco-powered pocket-light he had in his getup.

When he turned it on, the orb-shaped handy-lamp shone light on Razer, who clenched his eyes a little from the glare.

"What is this? An eco-outage?" Erol huffed.

Razer opened his eyes with a groan. "…It seems like it. For whatever reason, the fuse for this building must have blown. Or chances are, the city is having a blackout out from eco at this moment."

Erol, with the light in hand, jogged over to the automatic door of the elevator. He swiped his pass at the detector. It didn't even beep, let alone budge. With frustration, Erol tried again, then manually pressed the entire door with his shoulder to no effect. He ran over to the car-lift, repeating only to fail again. They were shut down, and it made Erol begin to think he wouldn't just be able to get home right then, making him think about how tedious that was at that time. A failure in the system could take hours to fix, and chances was there was no-one working around the stadium but them, so there wouldn't be anyone to notice. He momentarily pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his forehead against the wall.

"Does your communicator not work? I don't have mine on me, but if we have one, we could call for aid." Razer walked over to him, and though his suggestion was rational, Erol took another second before he removed his head from the wall and reached for his thigh-strap with the device. He had the digits for stadium service on him, when he pressed for call, a drawn-out static noise was heard. They both waited for a real response for as long as they had hope to hold unto. Nothing else came out, so Erol terminated the call. "The lines are down. So is the whole city, then."

Razer's eyebrows ascended, he looked as if I he was trying to think of a way out for them. In the mean time, he also stubbed his smoke, making the glowing dot disappear. "We can't use the doors, the exits are closed off, we can't communicate with the outside world. It's a dead end. I can't think of anything for this."

Erol thought of just turning off the lamp if there wasn't going to be any use of it anyways. He didn't do it, since it resembled his last comfort in that dire situation. He too, was thinking of something useful to do, but his thoughts led to nowhere helpful.

"I've got nothing… We have to sit it out." He thought of how much a mood-kill that interference had been. He didn't even know what to do with himself, let alone Razer.

"Erol, can I hold the light for just a moment?" Razer tried to get eye-contact with him. Erol's reach extended, giving Razer the orb without looking his way.

He walked the beam over to the car, opening it up and turning on the ignition. Erol now looked, for when all the lights in the vehicle turned on and Razer was sitting in the only seat, looking like he just solved the conundrum of the century. And to top it off, just the sound of the idle motor was like a single bumbling whumpbee, making Erol feel like he had witnessed the coming together of a full circle.

For a brief enough second, Erol thought about why you would even need lights in a racing car, but he wasn't so sour that he couldn't be a little relieved at this discovery.

"You want to leap in here with me, commander?" Razer proposed, smoothly sliding the seat back for extra leg/sitting-space.

"_You sly, sly bastard.__"_ Erol thought in that moment of happiness. He ducked his head down, looking into the cabin through the open window. "You only have one seat in there. Do you see a problem with that?" He played along.

"This seat isn't taken." Razer said with a straight face. Erol could have broken out in laughter right there and then. But instead, he grinned wide and swung a leg inside to sit astride on Razer's lap, face to face, making it impossible to resist a kiss.

Erol let his lips touch him first, pressing a soft, but keen kiss onto Razer, who elaborated with moving against him and giving him pressure. Erol took to keeping his fingers tangled up in Razer's hair, while Razer's fingers were doing a job of loosening Erol's headgear, sliding his mask and straps off to half-throw to the floor.

Razer wanted him out of the armor that hindered Erol's movability, as well as blocked his access to feel him up, so he made it his mission to unclasp the different locks around the shoulder- and chest-plates, then letting Erol push the whole ordeal over his head. That too, landed beside them, and with a clank that made Erol's laughter nearly escape his strained smile. He felt like a fool for jumping in with both feet, but at least he had a feeling that Razer still was the bigger fool.

Razer expanded his mission to get Erol out of all of his stiff regalia, while being smooth about it. He went back to nip at Erol's lips, nipping a trail of buds down to the top of his zipper by his low collarbone, keeping the trail ablaze while zipping and nipping his way down. It was turning out to become just a slightly more complicated mission, once Razer could see that there wasn't really an easy road to get the suit swiftly off Erol. He would have to more or less stand up, Razer realised when only being successful with pulling the top half off, experiencing that the bottom half was going to be another story. Plus, the boots were a task in themselves.

Working to not halt the moment, Razer began stalling with just slowing it down, giving Erol the proper make-out he deserved. All until Erol motioned his face away from Razer's, surprising Razer once, then moved off his lap and down to his knees, surprising Razer twice. When Erol unbuckled his pants, he let himself laugh at the instant it took him. What else was funny, was when Erol separated the buttons from the holes, revealing Razer's boxers, he was obviously somewhat harder than usual at that point.

Erol kept guessing what it was, that was so special about this time, and concluded it had something to do with Razer finally getting it on inside a smoking hot car. "_Figures._"

He let just his fingertips take a light journey over the lengthy bulge, as it was always a pleasure to tease and tempt. Though, it didn't take long before he took to tugging and stretching the hem all the way down, getting down to business.

Erol's lips where more chapped than they appeared, it could be felt when they ran over Razer's cock with haste. It gave a roughened feeling to the tender gesture. Razer placed his hands so to take part in Erol's movement by the base of his ears, squeezing them just enough to make sure his grip stayed.

"That's it." He reassured. Erol's eyes slowly relaxed while looking into Razer's, like he more or less unwound. His lips stopped at the tip of the glistening head, his mouth moistened by the contact of his breath bouncing off the surface as he breathed evenly, hot to the touch. In the next blink, his tongue emerged from its cave, slicking over the skin and ending up on the tip, coiling around the shaft for Erol to finally begin his descend and in return ascend, licking a shiny, wide trail in its wake.

He hadn't even taken Razer inside him at all, and yet it was just the right thing going on for Razer, who once in a while growled or gasped when Erol took a sharp turn or made his tongue tense up to flick at his urethral opening. It must have been the anticipation that made him jumpy.

His grip around Erol's ears made intervals of being harsh and tight to being considerate and limp. One of the most teasing parts of this, was the mere view that Razer endlessly enjoyed, with Erol looking him straight in the eyes while licentiously and unashamedly covering every bit of his cock with his mouth without even beginning to suck him off. That took it all for him, no need for comparison.

Even though the current game was satisfying, Razer couldn't wait any longer to feel the whole thing. He guided Erol by the ears, pulling him up just enough to position his wide-opened mouth down on him. Erol wasn't going to let him completely do that, so he intentionally resisted, putting up a fight against Razer's advances and didn't go any further than the crown, locking on Razer. He kinked his eyebrows in a devious manner for just a second. Razer inwardly swore at him, but never did blame him.

While staying put at just the spot underneath the neck of the glans, Erol took advantage of the situation and created just the right amount of vacuum, preparing to give Razer hell. He slid with closeness and slowness, passing down and first reached the furthest point after what seemed like minutes. Razer didn't think Erol would just like that be able to make it all the way down, but he triumphantly did, letting Razer feel his throat surround him for a few seconds, before jerking his head all the way back in one, clean motion. Razer almost swore aloud, cursing internally that he lost his firm grip on Erol for long enough for him to do that.

Erol now had the opportunity to cackle at him in an unusually raspy voice, before putting his grinning lips back around Razer's cock. Razer himself sat back and debated whether a pinch or slap would suit Erol's punishment, but he forgot about it when Erol began steadily, wholly moving up and down on Razer.

Erol took it an extra mile, which was already a mile too much. His idle hands went to work, keeping the bared base of the cock in a lock, just for the added pressure. He tightened just enough to make it extra difficult for Razer to edge, acting like a ring of abstinence. Still, it wasn't enough to hold him back.

The growing tension was beginning to overpower Razer, who needed to get Erol's mouth off him before the charged up tension relieved itself. Their silent contract dictated that this was far too early stage to stop playing, so Razer released his grip from Erol's ears and moved his hands over to cover his cheeks and softly raise his head up and away.

Erol put his palms on the sides of Razer to push himself up to sit tight on him once again, crotch dangerously close to the exposed member.

Razer felt around the side of his seat, then pulled up a lever that made the back-support lie down as much as possible rather suddenly, making Erol jerk forward and down on him. The newfound closeness gave Erol the opportunity to meet his lips with Razer's again, and Razer now found it easier to get the remaining fabric off Erol. Kicking his boots off, Erol could now lay bare flat down on him and their groins could unite in harmony and rub properly together.

A pair of hands were busy getting Razer's shirt tugged over his head, and that same pair went south to remove his pants and shoes, and immediately after made a halt with the rest of its body. Erol had stopped, then looked up and asked: "Where's your _grease_?"

"Trousers. In the right, front pocket." Razer had propped himself up on his elbows as he delivered his line. Erol dove into the pile to dig up the discarded pants, quickly getting what he came for. "Get to it." He tossed it to Razer, who got to it.

He prepped his cock for the ride, getting it as slick as possible, just how Razer liked it best with Erol. He grabbed the sides of Erol's thighs to draw him closer and help him find the right spot to lower onto, which was of course no task for either of them. Erol simply guided Razer's cock directly to the source, then began the sweet, slow descend.

Velvety walls engulfed Razer inch by inch, making it difficult to keep quiet. Not that anyone would hear him, he could just as well let it rip and moan like he meant it. He grinned for a few seconds, making Erol's face screw up tightly.

Erol wanted to ask him what the fuck was so funny, but he really didn't want to know. So he ignored it, relaxed, lowered just a little more, then felt his skin touch Razer's, and then he was sitting all the way down on him. Now there was only one way: up.

He stretched and lowered his body down to hover over Razer, their chests brought together to pump air in sync and their lips getting the opportunity to mingle. Razer's slow tongue made Erol just forget for a moment where he was and where he was sitting, until he felt a hand smooth over his ass-cheek that woke him up. Razer broke the kiss to tease Erol. "Aren't you forgetting to move or something?"

Erol only huffed quietly before he looked Razer straight in the eye, a hand clasping his disheveled hair with force, and pulled up, beginning a steady pace of fucking Razer.

From there on, there wasn't much to say. There was Erol, who was moving his hips only to the rhythm of his hasty breathing, all while giving himself the pleasure of jerking his own cock with the one free hand. He could barely hold his head up, so it mostly rested upon Razer's bristly chest.

Then there was Razer, who had taken to keep his hands firmly on Erol's cheeks for steadying, and in the midst of it, helped Erol by moving his pelvis to the same rhythm and hit him energetically for every thrust. Razer could crane his neck just enough to sloppily kiss Erol on his forehead.

Though it was all good, Razer wanted to make a shift in positions, so he eased Erol off him and sat up with him in his lap. Razer then moved Erol and himself down, so he had Erol pressed under him. He proceeded, not being entirely done yet, and took Erol by his shoulders to turn him over.

Erol laid flat on his stomach, and knowing what Razer wanted, he spread his thighs apart and lifted his ass just a few inches off the seat. With no further ado, Razer clung his body to Erol's back and inserted himself again to begin moving. His hands were fixed to Erol's handles, as he took primary control and pounded into him with a growing ferocity. Erol himself was running out of breath from the sudden change in sensation, it felt a lot different from the new angle than from the previous.

In addition to that, Erol now didn't need to use his hands. As it was, his cock was wedged between the leathery seat and his underbelly, and as he rubbed against those surfaces with every shove from Razer, he needed no further assistance. The pleasure was going to his head, Erol was beginning to feel the last push building up for every thrust.

He made a groan sound like a howl, as Erol breathed like rapid fire and gave his all to a much prolonged orgasm. Razer kept his pace as he bent over to kiss Erol between his shoulder blades, then stayed and held unto Erol until the finishing line.

Razer's hips were going with a speed that matched his pulse, and he kept it up for the duration of his own release, as he came into the heat of Erol's body for the longest time, streaming his cum deep inside until he was only twitching. As per Razer's custom, he didn't bother to move out of the way, he just sagged onto the body of Erol and cooled down on top of him.

Erol had never been the world's biggest fan of that custom, so he wriggled the best he could and got out from under the burden. He then noticed just how covered he was in his own sticky substance, when Erol looked down and saw that it was covering a lot of his stomach. He had no idea how to deal with it right then and there. He sat up and watched Razer raise himself off the spot, as he also looked down Erol and seemed to take note of the stain. It had also smeared the upholstery, Razer thought there was a remedy for that someplace in the garage, but he was not going to go and search for it now.

Instead he went to embrace Erol and roll them both over so Erol could stretch out on top of him. He looked tired, laying with his head rested upon Razer's chest again, his breathing more even and his eyelids drooping. Razer thought sleep might claim them both, lying there. He would be perfectly fine with that deal.

But in all that silence, a low voice made its way through as Erol spoke;

"I've got to give it to you, that was a great suggestion you made back there."

Razer was surprised at the praise, but not that surprised. He caressed Erol's shoulders appreciatively, replying; "You are always welcome to make the same suggestion.".

Though with a tired tone, Erol kept going. "Yes. You know, I'm not even that upset that I'm stuck here, generally. I suppose it could be far worse. I could have been alone. Or Edje could have been here. I don't trust that guy."

Razer hummed with content. "That's a wise judgement if I ever heard one. He's a shady character. At least you don't have to work with him." Erol's body shuddered momentarily with inward laughter. Then there was the well-known silence visiting them again, and then there was sleep, just as Razer had predicted.

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At some time around dawn, Razer and Erol both woke up to see that all the lights in the garage were back on.

Knowing immediately what it meant, Erol shuffled to the door and checked that it was really open. Razer wasn't concerned with going anywhere, so he reclined and watched Erol dress and exit.

When Erol could get into contact with the personnel, he made sure all the security-tapes of the garage's videocameras, that had been running on emergency reserve eco from 9.44. PM to 6.31. AM, where taken away by him for, what he called, legal reasons.

((I'm so sorry about the 'zipping and nipping' pun but I cannot regret it. made me laugh too hard to erase sorry not sorry enough))


	4. Chapter 4

There had always been a sense, that Razer thought something unique of Erol. The unspoken facts that Erol was satisfying Razer by being smarter, more efficient than any regular partner, had been set in stone. He had a life besides his and Erol's, but was it a coincidence that his own life wasn't as stimulating as the other? He thought it childish to imagine a future with only him, because they would never last longer than a night together. They hadn't yet. And when Erol came up, seeking shelter, Razer was feeling inherently apprehensive that there would never be a life for them, together, after this. Once Erol left the apartment for good, going out to lay low for the rest of his days, there was going to be no second life.

Razer didn't like to talk about other partners with Erol. He had never mentioned it before, actually, due to the certainty, that it wouldn't make either of them happy to know. If he told him, he had others to frequently fuck, he risked sounding like he never cared for Erol if there was a sea to choose from. It didn't matter if it was the truth or a lie.

If he told him, he had no-one besides Erol, it would make him look clingy to bring it up. Erol could be frightened off if Razer seemed too committed to him. He didn't want Erol to assume, he was only interested in him, whether or not it was the truth.

Razer really didn't have any need to be aware of who was taking care of Erol when he wasn't there. He was never not free to have anyone else, neither was Razer, so the conversation didn't need to exist. But it didn't mean he didn't think about it.

Like the way he was thinking about it all while absentmindedly watching Erol in the grey light of the room, taking low breaths in his sleep. It was most likely still too early in the morning to even be awake, but he had resurfaced from his sleep due to a disturbing dream.

He didn't have a clear recollection of it, just that it was like a series of dark scenes and light scenes. A much too bright blinking shine that made him feel what he thought, it was like to be epileptic. He remembered feeling nauseous and unable to breathe right. Being awake was far better.

Being awake meant being able to look at Erol's sleeping face in the dim glow. He was on his side, his hands lying under the pillow for support. He was dreaming too, his eyes were moving underneath their lids, his brow furrowed from time to time.

Razer noticed his faint crow's feet that looked like they would get much deeper in a decade's time or more. If only Erol didn't squint his eyes in disgust so much, he would probably have a face like a teenager, which was an eerie thought. Razer had the same creases, but more likely from smiling. Razer had other lines, though, like the ones he suspected he got from smoking, which was also an eerie thought.

He always had a suspicion that Erol was at least a year younger than him, but he had no proof. Maybe he turned out to be older than Razer, which was not unlikely. He just always assumed that Erol was maybe in his late twenties, while Razer, who was fresh into his thirties, was the older one. It was incredible that it even mattered to Razer.

His faded ink had always been an interesting part of Erol. He had supposedly joined the ranks at a young enough age for it to be illegal to tattoo him, but it had been done anyway. Erol once told Razer in passing, that he had insisted on bearing the Baron's proud markings, even if it was a painful experience. Erol dictated that the pain was part of becoming an officer, a taste of what there was to come. Yet, he didn't elaborate on that feat, getting more tattoos matching those on the rest of his body, like some officers chose to. Razer thought it was because Erol didn't enjoy the pain as much as he claimed, and that he remembered it too well.

Razer knew that Erol's ideal was a demand he wouldn't be able to meet. When he got his own markings, it was with some degree of resistance. There was a reason, he was nearly always covered in that area, other than to protect his public image.

But it was likely, that Erol wasn't going to have this be a part of him anymore. If he was given the light eco injections Razer suggested, he would be free of that characteristic. It was necessary for Erol to keep himself in the shadows, so Razer would have to tell the blocky lines under his eyes and strips around his ear-tips goodbye soon.

The treatment was supposedly painless and fast, though not affordable. Razer knew, Erol had emptied his savings, so as to not be tracked by his cards. He could afford that, and then some if his final resort had to be this.

He reached out and combed a stray lock of Erol's hair back to the rest. His sleeping didn't cease from him doing that, so Razer didn't retreat his hand. He left it, resting upon his warm cheekbone. He deeply wanted to help lift his concerns.

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Erol was dreaming of something he hadn't seen in a long time. He was in a forest, not unlike Haven's own. He wasn't doing anything but looking around there for a long time. Erol had no purpose being in his own dream.

It wasn't until the near end, when he kneeled by a pool of water, that he witnessed a consequence. He was close enough to the water's mirror to see a reflection, his face showed, and he could see, it wasn't the face he saw every day.

Erol looked considerably younger, but not more youthful. He looked wrecked, like how he remembered looking the first time he saw himself, after his last inking had been done. The sharp 'pen' had stabbed and bloodied him in places, he was swollen red all around the borders. His eyes were wet from all the tears he had to hold back.

The indelible design was made, and the first time Erol saw his own face again, he had never felt more frail. Why? He was 14 when it happened. He had asked himself since then, why was it he felt that way?

He was 14 when it happened. He was a child, being put in a chair for so many hours and having that done to him, really had some bearing on his psyche. Erol thought a lot of about what it meant, being a 14-year old, in that moment. And why he even commanded them into tattooing him, when he was out of legal bounds, if it was a principle or an ideal that drove him to make a horrible decision at a wrong age. Why anyone listened to him at that time, was beyond him. But when you are chosen to be an officer before you are allowed to drink, there must be something fearful about you.

And looking in that mirror back then and now, Erol had looked terrifying. Inside, he was terrified. He had never wanted it, but he was driven by the wrong people.

Why didn't he tell anyone about this? Maybe he had no-one to tell. How could he not have had anyone to talk to for the last 11 years?

He thought about all of this inside the dream's realm, until the realm of the living took over and his lids saw a change in light and setting. Erol was lying in bed, in Razer's bed, and he was looking directly at Razer, Razer looking directly at him. His hand was reposing on the side of Erol's face, which explained the dry, warm weight on him.

For the time being, Erol had nothing to say. He briefly thought about why Razer was doing this at all, if he had been glaring at him in his sleep for long and why the affectionate gesture of the hand. But he didn't think long enough to answer anything, Razer withdrew his hand, still keeping a neutral expression and the moment was over. Erol could now talk.

"Is it morning?" He noticed slivers of light falling through the curtain-holes, but he had no sense of time. He thought Razer must have been up long enough to check a clock.

"I don't know. I haven't looked at the time, I didn't want to move." Razer spoke very softly.

"What happened in your sleep? You looked like you were dreaming." He purred, slipping his hand under his own temple for leverage.

Erol cleared his throat, feeling like he wanted to talk real. He just didn't know if it would come out. "I had a dream about when I had my tattoos done for the army. It made me think for a while."

Razer kind of nodded. "I was just pondering that too, just now. I remember everything you told me about the principle of it. Do you remember?"

"I thought I deserved that pain, I think," Erol chuckled, half-bitter. "Like a typical kid, I wanted to look like I was in control of the same things as adults. Like endurance. I told everyone, that it was part of becoming a soldier, getting these."

"I remembered it, as you saying something along the lines 'the pain is part of becoming an officer, and it's just a taste of what there is to come'."

Razer didn't need to tell Erol how he must be feeling about saying that now. Erol understood his subtext, feeling actually pleased that he quoted him.

He smiled, whole-heartedly. "It only took me some 11 years to see how much of a fucking waste that was. That's why you don't make life-decisions when you're 14, you'll find a decade later that you're miserable, and that you can thank your former self for getting you into an institution that dictates torture over everything else. I'm entirely to blame for my own shit for once."

Razer seemed to understand in his quiet way, it was something Erol could see in him when he was listening. Even if he didn't relate, he was a damn good listener, and did a half-good job of saying the right thing at times. Half-good, because it was only about half the times they were right.

This was one of those times were Razer said the right thing; He said nothing. He took action instead, keeping his eyes on Erol, laying a hand out flat between them in an invitation for Erol to take him, if needed. Erol, however, did not act, but just said the right things, which was some of the things that had to be said.

But as the silence grew, Erol remembered how tired his body felt and he couldn't keep himself awake, and he slipped away again.

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It felt like Razer had slept for a day when he woke once more. The light from the blinds looked clearer, outside the windows he could hear the commotion from the docks around the building. He had turned in his sleep, and when he rolled over, Erol was missing from the wrinkly sheet that was left.

For a whole second, Razer thought; "_So he went._". But that second was wasted, as Erol reappeared from the bathroom, walking over to fetch the clothes from the pile on the floor. Razer observed Erol pulling his shirt on for a moment, before he knew what to ask.

"Is there a plan in motion yet?" Razer sat up, arranging pillows so he could be sitting upright.

Erol's voice was much more stable than the one he had used the day before. "I have considered starting by doing something about these…" He vaguely gestured to his face, indicating the tattoos. "I'll either take up a temporary solution and cover them, or I should do the permanent one and have the treatment. I'm leaning toward the latter. It's probably safer, plus… The Baron uses a system, which tracks soldiers by their patterns on the face and ears. If my pattern is erased, he won't find me _that_ way. It would make it a whole lot easier to wipe it from existence."

Razer nodded, feeling like he might light a cigarette, if he could reach for one. "I should have the number lying around for the person you are looking for."

Erol finished buttoning the shirt, then walked around the bed to pick up the communicator lying on the desk.

"I want to see if I can get this removed today." He handed it over to Razer, letting him browse through the contacts. He gave it back to Erol, knowing it would really be the last time he saw him, looking the way he always had. He couldn't let that pass, so when Erol's hand was just closing in on the device, Razer kind of snapped his arm back. Erol's face contorted into an expression of annoyed confusion.

"What are you doing?" He sighed.

Razer sat up right at the end of the bed and sighed as well, but only to prepare his plea. "If you're going through with this, then it means this is the last day you are as you are."

Erol squinted his eyes, looking exasperated still. "What is it, you want?"

Razer didn't think he had it in him, to act so meek. But he looked up with overbearing eyes at Erol standing with crossed arms in his space, and said: "If I could say goodbye to your old self, I will never ask such a ridiculous thing again." At that, Erol lost the viciousness in his face little my little, giving in.

"What, do you want to kiss them goodbye?"

Erol was standing close enough to Razer to have his ankles linked with Razer's, who pulled him in, trying to get Erol to fall over on him. Hands where there to hold Erol by the thighs so he wouldn't plummet hard when he did, though Erol's reflexes made him put up his defenses in time to avert slamming his skull into Razer's. He had his hands on both sides of Razer's welcoming face, and Erol sensed a smile creeping over his own, as he was rolled over to let Razer loom over him and cover him in light kisses. He did the ears too, going from tip to tip with his lips. The parts under the eyes where dealt with, delicate touches tasted Erol's closed lids and all the way up to his hair-line.

Razer hummed, because he knew Erol wasn't bothered by his actions, since a pair of hands were each holding around biceps, and when Erol re-opened his eyes, they were just calmly looking up. Though it was nice, Razer stopped his journey to hover his face over Erol's for the time being. He stopped to think about how they were both dressed down, lying in each other's arms, but not about to fuck. Staring like that at him, Razer doubted it was appropriate to kiss Erol on the lips. Razer had no idea how he was supposed to feel about that, so he told himself, he felt nothing.

The second Razer removed his face from Erol's, he felt, he had overstepped his own boundaries, in terms of implying affection. Erol would probably know what it had come to, but not address it. The conversation would endanger them both.

Razer placed the communicator in Erol's open hand before he slid off the mattress and stood up. "Take the exit in the back. To be safe."

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When Erol found the ditch where the business was, he entered and was pleasantly surprised. Surprised, because the facade was a lot more crowded, blinking neon splayed over the whole thing from top to bottom and giving off a vibe that didn't sit right with Erol. Pleasantly, because the difference layed in how sterile the clinique was inside, clean bright floors and walls, tables and doors in a consistent style.

He found the front desk in no time, stating his request to a secretary in a high chair. He was given forms to fill out, mostly ones that transferred the responsibility of the experts over to him by the strokes of his signature. Since that didn't bother him, losing his rights to sue if his face was maimed in the process, he simply handed the filled-out papers back, and was told that an appointment had opened up. Once the payment had been passed across the desk, he was taken through one of the doors.

The expert was a woman who told him to lie down on the stretcher, reassuring him it would only take about 5 minutes before they were done. She was preparing a syringe with rubber-gloved hands behind him.

Erol reclined, finding the calm in his body, which was surprisingly easy to unearth. It was all happening very fast, giving up his former identity. He was more ready than he had been when he got the tattoos in the first place. He thought maybe some of Razer's goodbyes had rubbed some confidence in him, which wasn't a bad thought. It felt like just the thing Razer would do to him, attaching himself to Erol to tease him with the kind of affection none of them liked to show.

Above him, the overhead lamp was turned on, and the expert reappeared with her small syringe, informing him of where she was going to stick it. Erol rolled up his sleeve, letting her find his biggest artery so she could swab it.

Erol looked at the little bulb with the liquid inside. Erol hadn't had the chance before to see light eco in person, though he had studied its effects versus the effect of dark eco. It was hard to tell what the distinct colour of light eco was, it was more of a glowing mixture of all colours than anything else. And looking at the needle gently spiking his skin, entering him and the expert pulling back the handle to draw back a bit of blood, he was not entirely prepared for it all. The sharp needle sparked pain in him, but when the liquid first arrived, every trace of stinging washed away. The needle itself could not be felt inside him.

Steadily, the eco forced its coming and every bit of the piston's content was emptied into his arm. Erol knew there was a varying physical effect to light eco, some became faint, relaxed, aroused or influenced with massive amounts of energy. He could feel something he had never heard of, Erol could feel the liquid itself crawling up inside his arm. It was travelling by his vein, snaking all the way into his center, and that's when he felt his heart pumping the eco through his entire body.

It was like a cool breeze capsulating his insides. It made him want to not lie down, but stand up so he could better enjoy the way he seemed to breathe easier. It was spreaded to the furthest point of his ears, and that's when Erol was beginning to feel unsure of how he knew if the treatment was working. He ought to look in a mirror for the answer, but he somehow trusted the light eco to do its job and leave him spotless. There was a sense of a prickling in his skin, like it was trying to lift itself off his body with help from the breeze. It could be, it was his skin cells working to replace each other, that created this ethereal feeling. When the chilled sensation changed, warmed up and bubbled, he doubted his legs would obey.

Erol had no idea what to believe was happening, wanting to believe nothing and lie back for the rest of the remaining time.

"It's looking good. You are free to go when you're ready. You should be able to feel the after-effects of the treatment for the next 6 to 8 hours, so don't be alarmed." The woman, whom Erol seemed to have forgotten, stood beside the stretcher, surveying the process. Erol tensed his muscles to see if they would still do that, and decided to cautiously sit up and feel the ground under his feet. When he walked, he was perfectly balanced, Erol thought his reflexes and command over his limbs might have improved. His lungs felt bigger, his heart felt robust, and the harmony of his insides was fine-tuned. There really was a reason it was light eco that was on the top of the doping list for zoomer drivers.

When he left, he remembered in his daze that he had yet to look in a mirror. It seemed less important now.

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Razer had been out, doing errands for himself. One such errand was dumping Erol's uniform in a hidden place, mask and all. The communicator he had, Razer remembered to crush and grind up before dumping. In the pockets, he found some knick-knacks he brought back, thinking Erol might like to sort them himself.

He came back to an unlocked door. The lack of thought was the surprising bit, if it was Erol who had returned, wouldn't he be more aware of his situation, and lock up safe? It was possible that someone else who technically owned the flat had come around, like Mizo, but Razer wished to doubt that.

"Hello." He called out waiting for who it could be. Chances was, it was a robberer. Razer had one hand in his inner pocket, fingers ready on his balisong knife.

"Hello." Someone answered. The tone was most likely Erol's. Razer proceded, walking to the living room where no-one was. Bedroom was next choice.

The door was a smidge of air-space from being closed, Razer poked it open and saw the figure of Erol, lounging on the bed.

He was lying flat and all stretched out, not a single muscle unrelaxed on him from the look of it. His head was lolled to the side, facing Razer, his eyes half-open and non-blinking.

It didn't take Razer long to register the change, which for a moment and a half made him think it couldn't really be Erol lying there. Not only were the dark greyish markings erased as if they had never been there, but they had left a skin that was radically different. He walked closer, kneeling down to examine him.

Razer had never seen Erol's eyelids without that heavy cover of dark pigment. They were light, the lightest shade of his skin, and same went for his forehead. Before, it had two broad stripes on each side, and without them, he looked bare. The tips of his ears were pink and looking more peach-skinned than ever.

From all the times Razer had touched his face, he would clearly remember how he felt; wind-bitten, worked and toughened skin, skin that came naturally from Erol's lifestyle. He was softest on the sides of his face, were you pressed your lips to something else than flesh with hard bone underneath.

Razer didn't hold his hand back, he grazed it against Erol's cheek, taking it in. He was free of that previous outer layer of skin cells that had soaked up the hard life. They were scraped off to reveal a more tender coat, firm and relatively uncreased. The crow's feet even looked thinner and more evened out. The lines in his forehead were fuller and the crinkle Erol was infamous for in the tiny space of his nose-bridge was smoothed out. He didn't exactly have baby-skin, but Razer was not doubting the change that had taken place.

"What are you staring at?" Erol's slouchy voice emerged from his barely moving lips.

"Have you seen yourself?" Razer whispered, tracing a light thumb under Erol's eye.

Erol's eyes finally opened wider, looking with slightly glazed orbs right into Razer's. "I've forgotten to look in a mirror."

Razer got up from the floor, scouting the nearby dresser. He could have sworn, he had seen a small, framed mirror sit on some table or in a window in that apartment once. It was in the living room, on the desk, and he grabbed it off its stand, going back to kneel like he did before. He held it up close for Erol to see the details in his face.

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When the mirror was placed right for Erol to view himself, he wasn't alarmed. The eco might have dulled his sense of surprise. Sure, the face he saw was not the one he knew, but he couldn't will himself to be impressed. He was calmly observing the eyes in the reflection, the evenly colored complexion that he hadn't seen in 11 years, filling up with an underplayed satisfaction.

"What did you think, when you saw me?" Erol asked the mirror, though the question clearly went out to Razer.

Razer felt like he was caught off guard. Erol sounded more hazy than first believed. It was also a little flattering that he asked, slurred voice and all, and his lips couldn't help but smile.

"I thought you looked a decade younger." He smugly remarked.

Erol put a hand over the mirror, pushing it away to finally look at Razer instead. "That's the most messed up compliment, I have ever heard." He broke into a small laughter. The wave hit Razer as well, making his shoulders shudder from giggling.

"Of course you don't look like a 14-year old. What does that say about me if I was into that?"

Erol suddenly had problems keeping his eyes off Razer, and he was kneeling close enough for him to reach out and take handfuls of his coat. He reeled him in, though Razer leaned willingly and brought their faces close together. He was in doubt if he could kiss him here, now, since he couldn't that same early morning and had thought since then about the kisses he regretted. Razer didn't have to make that decision, when Erol's sultry lips reached out and touched his own, the hands clinging to his coat dragged him on top. Razer was pleasantly surprised. He was not kissing the same skin he did that morning.

Erol wanted Razer lying down flat, smothering him with his weight, for as long as he could stand feeling the heaviness sucking the air out of him. He was currently more occupied with sensing Razer's lips working his own, his thoughts spiralling on what he wanted to do to him. Erol's imagination took him to a place where he was unbuckling Razer's belt, so he could palm him excessively through his boxers, warming him up for a little bit of fun.

His reality was close to meeting his imagination, since the hands where taking a journey south, smoothing over the coat, downward to the belt. Swiftly, it was opened, the first barrier eliminated, and Erol could begin on the next belt.

Razer was seeing clearly were this was going, so he encouraged Erol with moving down on his neck to kiss and suck along his neck between moans. He removed his coat entirely with his free hands, so he could use them to slide up Erol's shirt and give his pecs some attention.

Erol, was in the meanwhile opening up to get a feel of Razer's boxer-covered front, just rolling with the plan of cupping him whole and massage some nice reaction out of him. Razer was going through an effervescent, warm feeling gathering in his underbelly which made his breaths tenser. Erol brought the elastic band down to stay under his testicles, witnessing a rigid Razer, ready to be grasped and serviced. He took a handful, pumping him thouroughly from root to head, getting Razer to moan properly.

Erol thought about getting the usual lube involved, but his mind was not going to tell him to stop. Not when Razer wasn't objecting, but looking more like he was unravelling in a short amount of time. He was already feeling the wetness coming from the glans opening, pre-cum dripping sparingly from the reddened head. Erol focused on keeping it up, though he took a moment to lift himself up to catch Razer's whimpering lips with his. Razer had to hold on to something, deciding on combing his fingers in Erol's hair.

Erol's pace was not fast nor slow, he did it the way he knew best, which went well with Razer, who was sounding like he didn't have much time left. When Razer came over Erol's shirt and the front of his pants, he called out Erol's name for once in the sea of growling moans. He also for once didn't collapse on Erol's defenseless body, but kept looming over him. Erol smiled crookedly at him with his glazed eyes.

"Funny you were so into it. Didn't think you liked it that way." He moved his sloppied hand from Razer's cock to discreetly dry it off in the linen.

"So you don't remember that part on the first night we had together," Razer stretched his arm to fish the coat over to him, "Where you handled me, just like you did now? I absolutely loved that." He found his pack in the pocket. Smoking post-coitus was one of the best smokes in the day, Razer told himself often. And it still felt good as always. He praised the way the day turned out.

Erol looked impressed, or somewhat staggered. "Yeah, I do remember. I remember a lot from that night, considering I was well past my third drink. But don't get sentimental over it, or whichever route you were taking." He unbuttoned his shirt with slowed down movement.

"You're a little too suspicious of me being sentimental. It sounds like you're projecting." Razer looked Erol in his absent eyes.

"You were the one muttering my name a minute ago." He slurred a little. Apparently, the part of Erol's brain that conjured comebacks was not dulled by the eco's effects. Razer chewed on it for a bit, then lifted a brow and tutted at him. He knew when to pick his fights.

Razer lit up the cigarette while turning over on his side. His lighter went straight to the floor, and after the bump of it hitting the wood underneath them, silence fell flat.

He considered asking Erol about his plans, now that he had gotten himself a different image. But Razer sure didn't want that to be the only thing they talked about, even if it was essential for him to know when it compromised both of their safeties.

Erol lifted his torso, looking like he didn't expect it to be so heavy, just enough to shrug his shirt off. "I wanted to thank you, too." Erol murmured.

Razer shifted his eyes, looking at him. He thought he maybe hadn't heard that right.

"Was that your thanks, you gave to me just… Now?" The cigarette was fast becoming irrelevant, and if Razer didn't flick the ash off soon, it would land on his chest.

"Yes… Thought you deserved it for the trouble I caused. Given that I'm going away some time tomorrow, I'd do you… The…" Erol trailed off with the gesture of a rolling hand. He knew Razer knew it already, Erol's tongue was just too lazy to form an ending to the sentence.

Razer found that ahstray he was alerted of by his senses, after feeling cinder trickle down on him. He got the answer to the question he was too numb to ask before. "You didn't even have to." And the numbness immediately returned.

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	5. Chapter 5

It was a mission that first brought Erol to Kras. He wouldn't have any other reason to make an appearance. So his chapter started with Praxis assigning him to keep an eye open for a certain suspect in a murder-trial, details where stashed away in a portfolio Praxis pushed on him. The attaché wasn't even that thick, but Erol was still going to be sour over how he was taking off to Kras immediately after Praxis had sprung the assignment on him in the evening. A ride on Erol's zoomer over the Haven-Kras bridge was not going to be a short one, he'd first get there at a horrendous hour. But for the sake of the job, he said nothing in the presence of the Baron, just trotted off and went home to pack.

A long time later, arriving at the accommodation felt chaotic in Erol's mind. It was late when he finished checking into the room and finished mentally dismissing the neat folder of info he was supposed to read that same night. He shrugged his uniform off, changing into a less regal and stiff outfit, feeling his chest heave again.

Right then, he wanted to get out of that quiet hotel room, go to a place that served alcohol and nurture his thundering headache. Not very professional, but '_Just for the night_', he thought. He could worry about trailing the suspect the next day.

The first bar Erol could enter, he did. He took a right turn down the main street and stumbled upon a place that still had open hours, and also oddly enough, an aquarium instead of a wall. His feet drove him past the marine-themed facade and mindlessly over to the bar-stools. Place was buzzing at just the right volume for Erol to not want to escape there, too.

He caught the bartender, asked for the strongest thing he could stand to drink and started to calm his heart. The pressure from before was dissipating, his nerves were piecing themselves together and he could see himself getting through the night. A nice-ish seat in a passable bar, the solitude of his own company for now, and a drink being poured for him was a virtue. And that first glass made its way down faster than he really gave thought to. He told the barkeep to keep them coming.

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"Razer, you do know that's a cop, yeah?" Edje looked at Razer like he was a naive half-wit for even suggesting it. "Unless you want-a spend the night in a dank Krimzon cell, you best stay way out of that guy's radar." He smugly grinned into his mug of indiscernible drink.

Razer didn't glance back at him, nor did he feel humiliated. He had his eyes on the prize, a man who had walked into The Bloody Hook just 20 minutes earlier and stuck by the bar-counter where he had been sitting ever since. He was half-heartedly chugging down some drinks alone, a normal condition for this bar's patrons. Razer couldn't help but think about whether he and his goal to get less sober wanted some company.

"If he knows who _I_ am, which I highly doubt, there's always a chance he won't care. He's from out of town. What are my odds?" Razer defended. Krimzon Guards were not an ordinary part of Kras. They showed up for big racing-events, swarming the stadiums, usually under the guise of surveillance. He thought this particular one must either be off duty or on a special job, whatever that entailed. He pondered that over a sip from his glass.

"Then he's nuts if he agrees." Edje 'joked'.

Razer laughed haughtily. He didn't find the insult funny. "Or he's looking for a good time."

Razer wished the guy would turn a little more for just a few moments to look in his direction. That way he could determine more accurately, whether he was on his side of the court or not.

Edje spoke again, despite the silent wishes of Razer. "Why make a risky game of it? That's what I don't get. You could either get jail-time, laid, or a flat-out rejection. That's 2 to 3. Why bother?"

Razer was glacial when he emptied his glass and replied. "I don't make a game out of it. I make a life out of it."

He slid off the bar-stool and subtly straightened his looks before making the walk across the room.

He walked leisurely so not so set him off before he got close enough. Razer was just beside the chair next to him, when their eyes caught. He was mid-sip when his unfamiliar eyes latched themselves on to Razer, while the rest of his face gave off a moderately surprised look. He took his lips off the rim and set the glass back on the counter, but didn't speak yet. Razer had only just sat down, smiling courteously to check the waters.

"Hello. Would you mind another person sitting here? I wasn't sure if you looked like you needed company or not from across the room." Razer was partially waiting for his response so he could determine how drunk he was.

"Well… Hello. And I highly doubt that I mind at all." His reply was far more stable than could be feared. Razer was glad, this meant he could buy him another round.

"That's just what I hoped. When you're done with that glass, would you care if I got you another one? On me, of course."

"I highly doubt I would mind it."

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Good news was, that Erol felt no trace of the annoyance, the unease, the nausea he had felt just short of 30 minutes prior. He was in a wonderful, sparkling mood, maybe thanks to the substance he had been taking in, but definitely thanks to his ability to cheer himself up.

He felt this good especially, when a man he had never seen before slipped up on the seat next to him, a man who had then started talking to him. He had offered a generous drink. His voice was a nice tone in the midst of all the buzzing.

Erol was by all means under the influence, but his mind was under control. He knew how many glasses he had emptied already, he knew where he was staying, he could recite the precurian alphabet backwards. And he was off duty. No harm was being done in this scenario.

"So, what are you having?" The man used a light finger to touch Erol's now emptied glass fleetingly.

"Scotch off the rocks. It's the house blend, I think. I don't know if I should cut down, it's strong stuff."

"Would you take a suggestion?"

Erol rested his jaw on his fist. "Yes. Anything you've got."

"You could use a cleanser after the roughness of scotch. They serve a special here that might do the trick. It's like a kir, but with more of a spark to it. Care to try?"

The guy was subtly enthusiastic enough to convince Erol to go down the road. "Sure."

He ordered two of the specials and smiled at Erol a little wider. "I should tell you my name, before you take me for the rude type; it's Razer. I'd like to hear yours." He didn't put a hand out for Erol to shake. It was that kind of greeting.

"Mine's Erol. I believe I have… Heard of you." Erol felt a memory dawning upon him, when he heard the name 'Razer' spoken out loud. A memory of a file. No, an article. A headline.

"You're a retired combat race car driver. Yes or No?"

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Razer was half-relieved at the partial truth. For a half-second he thought there might be something, Erol knew. But for now, he could relax and continue the charade.

"It's not false, though 'retired' is such a strong word. I'm a former grand champion in combat racing, which is why you may have heard of me. So, I would say 'perhaps' to your question."

Erol squinted his eyes a little. "What, like, do you step in when you're needed? How does it work, being a 'perhaps' retired driver?"

He seemed genuinely interested. Their drinks arrived the same moment and he looked over the spacious glass and its cargo, surprised in that subtle way again. Razer slid his glass over to his own side of the counter, but didn't take any sips yet. He was about to give an educational speech, which couldn't be done with a mouthful of beverage.

"There's quite a lot of finance involved," Razer prepared to give the whole talk, lighting a cigarette. Smoking while speaking, however, was the easiest trick to pull off.

"When you're a former crowd favorite, a lot of investors want you back on the track to keep the bets alive. So when a Cup Season has been particularly bad for their pockets, and the various TV-stations' ratings have been low, I am the person they call. I don't always take up the offers, but I don't mind the extra cash."

Erol hummed momentarily with a sense of understanding.

"Fascinating. I do some racing myself, though in a much different vehicle." He finally tested the bracer, looking pleased afterwards. Razer also took a gulp at last, feeling equally pleased he ordered the cocktails.

He was also immensely pleased to hear that Erol shared that hobby/profession and lit up when he mentioned it. "Do go on."

Erol sort of smiled. "I'm a zoomer-driver. It's what I do besides my job, though I guess being grand champion of Haven is a professional title."

Razer chuckled. "Very fascinating. Though I detest zoomers, it's impressive that you're the Haven City titleholder. I should have heard of you, somehow, when we're almost in the same business. I guess it must be the mention of zoomers that kept me away." He kept the slandering of the vehicle he despised to a light minimum. There would probably be questions from Erol.

And there was. "How can you hate zoomers? They're much more versatile and nimble than a big hulking combat car. Far fewer zoomer-accidents happen every year compared to cars. You can actually drive them in the streets. They're the perfect vehicle." He argued, though with a twinkle in his eye.

Razer adapted the same twinkle. "Once you've fallen off one, you'll never want to sit in anything but a car ever again. There's no protection, no gear to hold you in place. They're too speedy, not enough bulk." Razer gestured with his dying cigarette. It was good arguing on a subject no-one could win on.

"That's so feeble." Erol grinned, taking another swig. "I've raced since I was 8, I have at least fallen off or crashed my zoomer a hundred times. That's what training is for. You must pay a price for a vehicle like that. And besides, when you sit in that big, _protective_ car of yours, you're in danger of missiles and Peace Maker blasts. Don't you think that's a slightly bigger risk?" He was playing along delightfully. Razer thought of a response for five whole seconds while stubbing his cigarette in an ashtray.

"You've got a point. I definitely don't agree with said point. I guess I just like to dance with death more than I'd want to ever hop on a zoomer. And so, I will continue to denounce zoomers and their existence, for as long as I can get away with."

The beam never faded from Erol's face. "Until the day you're horribly scarred from driving into a mine?"

"I bet you'll be horribly scarred from a zoomer-crash long before I will, on the track." Razer didn't mean to make it sound too premonitory, so his own beaming smile sustained as well.

"I'll take your bet. Because statistics say, I will win." By the end of the sentence, Erol raised his glass to clink with Razer's. Their eyes mingled for a few potent seconds. Razer wanted to gloat and shoot Edje a look to see if he was witnessing how wrong he had been. But he chose not to and clinked instead.

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When he retreated his glass, he took a long swig of his drink, keeping his eyes on Razer's. Erol was in no mood to stop whatever he was doing. He was having the most fun while buzzed he had in a long time. His free time didn't extend to bar-visits as often as he wanted, even when it did, you couldn't be satisfied every time.

And the thought that this Razer was possibly hitting on him wasn't a bad one. He wasn't feeling shy of turning down his advances. It could be a nice way of rounding off the night. If it lead to that, Erol could do what he also didn't have enough free time for in his everyday. But this time with another person. A downright satisfying outcome.

He tore his eyes from the other pair, instead looking at a pair of hands that distracted his sight. Razer had nice, though gloved, hands. Slim and non-specifically nice-looking.

Erol now couldn't stop thinking, if he could be persuaded to go off with him and make something of the night, maybe in Erol's unused hotel room. He wanted to know more than anything if they were on the same page or not.

"I must ask," Razer began, cutting himself off by lighting another cigarette, "since you're a zoomer champion in Haven, are you from out of town? Visiting Kras for some reason?"

His smoking was considerate. He was one of those smokers who didn't deliberately engulf you in their clouds, it seemed.

"Native Havenite. I'm here for business, I only arrived here this night. Obviously, I'm not doing business right now. You seem like you're out of town, yourself."

Razer hummed in question. "Yes, well, I am not a native to Kras City. But I live here. Is my foreignness that obvious?"

"I suspect it was your accent that threw me off the trail. You sound Northern." Erol replied. He wanted to hear him say much different things in that accent. It was as good a time as any to cross his legs.

"Correct. Good detective-work." He inhaled deeply through his cigarette. Erol couldn't not smile at the simple compliment.

Razer had more to say, which he lowered his voice just slightly for. "So, how are you liking this strange city, if it isn't too early to tell?"

Erol emptied his glass before replying. His tone also dropped without him thinking about it.

"I've been here for approximately an hour. I am _very_ pleased, so far. But the night's young, isn't it?" He didn't know if you could call 2:45 young, but it was for the sake of cliché that he said it. And his hazy mind didn't know what else to come up with.

"Very pleased, really? That's good to hear." Razer seemed to lean forward just by an inch. "Are you looking to make it more pleasing?"

Erol's eyes flickered to Razer's hands again. One was flicking ash into the ashtray. The other was resting on the top of one of Razer's knees, which was so close to touching Erol's, it was unbearable. He focused on Razer's calm eyes again.

"Do you… Have something in mind?" His legs unconsciously uncrossed, brushing against Razer's own completely. He wanted to be doing something with his hands, anything, but he had no ideas. He was hoping Razer could provide that.

"Do you have a room?" The gloved hand discreetly journeyed up an inner thigh.

"Just around the corner." Erol's breath almost got caught in his throat.

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The hotel lobby was abandoned, but that was no problem as Erol beeped his way through the gates and made his way to the elevator fast. Razer was in clear pursuit of him. He was jogging less than a meter behind, keeping up well.

It was fast to open up for them, of course, with there being no people being up that late. The entire building was at peace, save for the sound of their quick footsteps and their half-panting after the short jog from bar to hotel. Erol slipped inside first, Razer a quart of a second behind him.

Erol went to press the panel for the 8th floor, and just as that, Razer pressed his chest up against his back, draping his hands over Erol's that rested on a metal beam. His face moved up to kiss Erol, and Erol complied by turning his head enough to make it possible.

The force of the grasp Razer had on Erol only increased, to a point where Erol's entire body was more or less flattened against the mirror-wall, thanks to Razer squeezing him with the weight of his chest and hips in a very loving way. He needed only to whisper if it was too much, but Erol's mouth was busy with Razer's, as their worlds slowed down to the movement of their tongues. They were only just passing the 2nd floor.

Oh, how the urge to undo Erol's belt and slip a hand under his fabric barriers was strong. There was still that risk of indecent public exposure, if a night-shift piccolo chose to walk through the shutter doors, that kept his hand drawn back. It was keeping itself busy by snaking up under Erol's shirt, far enough to caress a collarbone.

Erol bent back into Razer's hips, feeling the contact of an indiscreet erection separated by mere layers. It made him laugh into their kiss, especially because he was far beyond semi hard himself. He wanted Razer to notice, just get him to palm over his front, anything. Despite the passion, it could wait 4 more floors.

At one point, Razer lessened his grip to give Erol some air and space so to let him turn to face him head-on. Erol was then the first to swing his arms around Razer's neck and pull him back for another long mingle of bodies and kisses.

They were attached by their groins now, and Razer was finally able to notice the result of his work. It made him want to get Erol out of his clothes even more, so as to get a better view and a hold of his creation. He began grinding them close together, making Erol squirm from the rough contact.

Erol liked it, though. He showed it by planting a kiss just below his jawline, softly biting into the flesh underneath for a delicious reaction from his counterpart.

And all of a sudden, the doors parted for the level they were supposed to be on, and Erol was down on his running feet again. He lightly exited the elevator, taking leaps to the door by the end of the hall. Razer followed suit, only a little out of breath.

He beeped his card again, pushing the door in and immediately stopping in his tracks to turn and wait for Razer to show. When he did, he slammed the door behind him, shutting off the only source of direct light, before setting off for Erol's body once more, this time with a vengeance to get his clothes off in the safety of their privacy.

He picked greedily at the belt first, getting it open in a shake and a tug, so he could let Erol step out of his shoes and pants. He was in a hurry to get all the buttons of Erol's shirt out of their holes, no patience and no time to spare.

Once Erol has shrugged the shirt to the floor, he could begin working on Razer's own complicated getup, starting at his coat-belt. Getting that off, it revealed what he wore underneath his jacket, a sleeveless shirt which came off in the blink of an eye, together with the gloves. Erol quickly noticed the previously concealed ink flames on both of Razer's arms, spanning from wrist to elbow, making him feel even more elated because they shared that character-trait, too.

Erol dropped to his knees to undo his boots and take care of the buttons on the pants. Razer raised a leg at a time to give him a chance to pull it all off him, before Erol could snap back up to face him, both of them now wearing only their thin boxers.

It was a good time to make out again, this round with Erol holding Razer by his waist and Razer steadying Erol's face with his hands on both his cheeks. Their feet were doing a choreographed walk half-backwards to the real destination: The king-sized bed.

Pushed by the weight of Razer's body, Erol fell back first into the spongy mattress. He had a lot of muscle laid on top of him then, with Razer relentlessly grinding not just his pelvis to Erol's, but rubbing their torsos together, making Erol short of breath between kisses.

He took his hands up to hold around Razer's head, pulling him away an inch to let out his gaspy words. "So, do you have something in mind?"

Razer's enlarged pupils stared back at him reassuringly. "First, I'd like to get these last hurdles out of the way," He held a hand to Erol's underwear, a thumb tucked under the hem. "Then, I would find something to lose the friction a bit, so I can lay my cock on top of yours and frot with you, until you come. Is that something like what you're after?"

"Yes. Please." Erol's response was quick, and so was Razer to get up and rummage his coat pockets. He found what he was looking for, a tube of goodness that he came back to the bed with. Before laying his body down in its place again, he watched Erol in the shadows, pushing his boxers off and out of range. He copied, letting them fall to the floor so he could step out of them and kneel on the bed and crawl his way to loom over Erol.

From the second Razer was on top of him again, Erol was as sprung and ready to go as he ever would be. Razer's member was hot to the touch, and to feel that sensitive skin like Erol's own on him was absolutely intoxicating. This was the drunkest Erol felt that whole night, laying cock against cock with Razer, increasing and decreasing the pressure put between them.

Slow at first, they just enjoyed the stillness of doing nothing in particular. Erol parted his thighs, changing it up so his feet could interlace and repose on top of Razer's ass, while Razer used his hands to get a grip of Erol's sides so it was easier to navigate them together.

All in the time being, their lips couldn't separate, not until Razer distanced himself to look down at what he was doing. He had gotten a small amount of the tube's content out, spreading it in his palm before he could lay hands on Erol's member.

He slicked him from base to tip, getting some interesting sounds out of Erol. It wasn't even that far into the fun, before Erol was looking like he was about to melt. It didn't help that Razer was pumping him lovingly, and in a way Erol had no idea how Razer had learned, making sure he was as good to go as possible. He teased him by making concentric circles on the skin of Erol's head, squeezing clear pre-cum out of him. Razer whispered encouraging words for the duration, if only to get Erol to mewl louder.

The show went on, as Razer removed his hand and positioned his cock to cover him once again, getting started on the work of basically grinding Erol into the mattress.

Erol's feet went back behind Razer, pushing down as well to keep them close in that area, and his hands went around Razer's torso to knead his back. He moved with him to the beat Razer had set, helping build the orgasm to come.

The perception of their members sliding and pressing against each other was a wild trip for Erol. He used his nails to claw up Razer's back with white, thin stripes without even thinking about what he was doing. When the ridged part of their shafts aligned and created friction, Erol howled together with Razer, who did his best to hit that sultry spot as often as possible. He made sure of that by using an idle hand to grip both of their cocks, keeping them in a lock together.

"You're gonna make me come if you keep doing that." A pre-orgasmic spasm shook his thighs from deep inside.

"That's the idea." Razer's teethy smile could be felt, pressed so close to Erol's neck.

He was right, because once Razer had taken the pace up a peg and left more kissing bites on Erol's skin, the tipping point came and he writhed under the pressure, screaming out a series of moans with all the held-back vigor there wasn't room for previously in his life.

Erol slumped, feeling overexposed and full of renewed energy. He looked up at a beaming Razer, whose hips had come to a halt.

Erol's hand was fast to trail downwards, then return the favor. Razer fully agreed, as he gently rolled them both over so Erol could get the better angle.

He jerked Razer thoroughly, his cock was still incredibly sleek from the lube, possibly also from some of Erol's spillage. The extra glide was a great turn-on for Razer, anything that wet and heated was like the real deal for him. He let his head loll back, slipping encouraging compliments masked as moans from his lips. Razer kept his fingers occupied in Erol's hair, twisting it around his digits and using the control to direct Erol's face up so he could kiss it all over.

When Razer came, he tensed up hard and tugged a little harsher at Erol's scalp than would normally be comfortable. Erol took no grudge, just pumped him and kissed his growling mouth through the intervals of cum shooting from him. Razer ended up slack and on his back, using his last energy to haul Erol on top of him in an embrace.

Erol made no objection, he just made himself comfortable in the crook of Razer's neck and calmed his wheezing breaths. In the unlit room's atmosphere, there was nowhere else to be for them, for the better of everyone. With no further ado, both fell asleep faster than they had done in a long time.

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Erol was still inside a dark, dreamy state of half-sleep when he was awoken by the sound of knocking on the door that was far louder than it would be, if it wasn't for the fact that he was a little hung over.

He wanted to call out to check who the hell it was standing at the door being so loud, but his dry mouth and heavy body wouldn't cooperate just yet. A voice from beyond the wood called out first, a single word; "Breakfast.". Erol faintly remembered it being a pre-ordered thing.

The door glid open and a person dressed in the hotel staff uniform rolled a cart with a tray in, stopping it beside the end of the bed. Right then, Erol was reminded of his poor state of dress, being naked, though covered barely by the bedsheet, and presumably looking sweaty and undone. The attendant didn't shoot him any dirty looks, though.

Erol was also reminded that another body was draped over his underneath the bedsheet.

Razer was still softly breathing, asleep and unknowing that a servant was currently arranging a table of brunch foods in front of their bare selves.

Erol didn't thank the staff person when they walked out the door, as he was a little preoccupied piecing together what was going to happen next. He wanted to slink off the bed, get a much needed shower and treat his unbalanced head to some fresh water and a pill.

However, the heaviness of Razer's arm over his chest and his leg entwined with Erol's, spoke a different story. He could wake Razer up, but he feared the man was a heavy sleeper, since he slept through the knocking and Erol's vague attempt at moving around. He coughed, getting his voice back after clearing his throat, and tried the verbal route.

"Hey - Hey, get up. I need you off me, Razer, please wake up and stop being so heavy." He wiggled with more enthusiasm, feeling the energy return to his limbs. Erol lifted the arm cradling him high up enough for him to be free, and once the hand hit the empty, crumpled linen, Razer's eyes stirred open. Shortly after, he lazily propped himself up on his elbows.

"I hear you. What's the rush?" Razer ran fingers through hair that was in desperate need of a mirror. Erol glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. It was 11:13.

"I was suffocating. You're a heavy spooner." He walked, surprisingly steadily, over to pull the bathroom door open. He turned on the warm faucet, and the process of rebirth after a night of drinking had begun.

Beside the swashing sound of water running off him, a curious sleepy voice called out for him. "Are you interested in this tray of breakfast, or are you willing to share?"

Erol didn't feel hungry. He doubted that he would feel hungry any time in the next few hours, until the last trace of alcoholic side-effects had been purged from his body.

"You're free to ransack it all. I'm not eating."

He hoped that was a clear answer. When he got out of the shower-compartment and toweled dry enough to re-enter the bedroom, Razer was sitting nude in the chair by the make-shift table, taking care of business. It had been a quite clear answer, then.

It reminded Erol of how, if he wasn't going to spend time eating, he might as well spend time taking care of his own business: The forgotten folder.

It laid neatly on the writing-desk where Erol had strewn most of his things from much earlier yesterday. His uniform was dispersed, laying around the legs of the desk together with his traveling bag. He thought he wouldn't be changing into his militaristic gear in the next few days, which was an odd, smallish comfort. He put the thought away for the now, as he picked up the files and opened up the cover.

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Razer was in an effervescent morning mood. It seemed that he was getting away with his little operation, and to top it off, he was offered breakfast from a 5-star hotel. He couldn't help but feel the urge to thank his partner in crime.

He thanked him with his eyes, as he watched Erol stand, legs lightly parted and his weight resting delicately to one side. He was leafing through a text, eyes busy on the pages and his face an unreadable mask.

A bonus to his view was Erol's slicked back damp hair, looking radiant and coppery in the broad daylight. Razer hadn't had a chance to see that in the dim light of The Bloody Hook. In fact, though he had patted himself dry with a towel, his skin was visibly damp as well, in some places little water-drops trickled down a toned leg or arm. Razer took another fork-full of eggs while cherishing the sight. The privilege of being him was overwhelming.

He still had his eyes on him, when Erol directed his gaze up from the papers, suddenly looking directly at Razer. He looked neutral until his brow inexplicably furrowed. It seemed that something was going to erupt. In the meantime, Razer smiled invitingly at Erol.

Erol was now biting his under-lip. It was quiet before Erol unbit it, then finally came out with what he wanted to say. "You're affiliated with this guy, right?" A photo he sampled from the folder was held up between two fingers. Razer put his cutlery away.

Razer recognized the portrait photography of a recently deceased member of Mizo's own gang. He didn't know him well. Razer had only heard of his death 2 days prior, something with a rivaling gang, a shotgun involved. He had no real details at all of said incident.

"I knew him for a short time. Not very close." Razer was seeing this morning turning into an interrogation. He braced himself for the worse.

"How?" Erol's hardening stare developed into that of a real sergeant's. Razer was guaranteed to be seeing a very real side of him.

"We were in the same branch. I suppose your folder will tell you all about said branch."

Erol hung his head, shaking it subtly. He was holding a hand to his temple while looking as if he was trying his best to comprehend the situation.

"You get it, right? You know I'm a Guard, and I _now_ know you're an accused in the trial of this guy's death. And to top my incredible awakening off, you've been associated with _Mizo_ on several occasions." He looked like he wanted to scream, but something seemed to restrain Erol. He frisbeed the entire folder to the bed and began quietly pacing the room. Razer didn't think it'd be appropriate to get up.

"I'm a commander of the Krimzon Guard. I cannot be linked to _you_. If _this,__" _Erol referred clearly to their night by the tone of his hissing emphasis, "were to leave Kras' borders, I would be rotting in jail and marked forever as a horrible criminal."

'_Sounds like you need a better union.__' _Razer wanted to say.

What he said instead, was this;

"What if it doesn't reach Haven? You can have the security-tapes confiscated from the hotel staff. I can be discreet. You can make it work."

Erol's eyes squinted as he jabbed an accusing finger at Razer. "Don't play me. You have the perfect black-mail at hand, and you, a _gang-member_, won't use it against me? Don't take me for the naive type." He furiously snapped.

Razer was not easily intimidated, and he knew Erol was in a distressed psychological corner. There was no reason to be less than completely calm and come up with a rational response.

"What would I get out of it? In earnest, I'd like to keep this connection of ours private, too. I'm at a risk, if I am found out to be allied with a Krimzon Commander, I could be suspected for posing as an undercover cop. I'm not out to extort you, if my own life's on the line."

Erol huffed, walking around to look for his discarded clothes. He was as far as Razer could tell, going to need some time to digest.

In the silent meanwhile, Razer thought about if he would ever be meeting Erol again for a little something of the same of last night. If he wasn't planning to desert him out of rage, that's all. It had been a success, and Razer knew what to do with success; Repeat it.

They could work on it, and if Erol ever set foot in Kras again, he would get a welcome as warm as anything he ever dreamed of. He'd have to watch the outcome of this morning first, though, before he could plan.

Erol found and pulled on his boxers but slumped into the bed before he could find it in him to button his shirt. He turned his head to look at Razer.

"I stumbled into bed with you. I literally stumbled into you, the person I'm supposed to shadow. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Do I just ask _you_ now, what is going on?"

"If you wanted insight, you could have read that folder of yours before stumbling into bed with me. Then you'd know who you were stumbling with."

Erol looked a little more limp than before. He took deep breaths instead of fighting it anymore. A vein in his neck flattened. Razer wanted to do something for him, anything.

He looked like he was in much less anguish, but he also looked like he needed more. Razer got up, walking the few steps to sit close beside him. It made Erol look at him properly again, and there wasn't far between their faces now. Razer decided a companionable hand between Erol's shoulder-blades was a comfort fitting the situation. Erol didn't reject the contact, just kept looking at Razer with tired eyes and a never-ending sigh.

"I can tell you what I know. The night it happened, he got into a commotion with another gang in Kras. That man's murderer is not one of Mizo's own. And it's certainly not me. I have a waterproof alibi, which I can prove to you if that's the kind of info you need. I can also point you to the right direction, if you need names to go after. That is, if I'm a reliable source to you." Razer could only reassure as much as possible. He desired to be on Erol's side in this, and if Erol trusted him, he would be nothing short of content.

"Whatever you have to say, might not hold up in court. They don't favor suspects with red ledgers." He wasn't outright stating that he was going to help Razer out of the mess, but it was as good as he could have hoped for.

His face even broke into a mild smile. "Then luck is definitely on my side. I've had false accusations opposing me, but never anything that lead to serious incarceration. My record is clean. They can't hold that against me."

Erol's expression changed somewhat, from concerned and vexed, to less concerned and much less vexed. "That's… Uplifting."

Razer's hand fell behind Erol to lie passively by the small of his back. "I'm much more trustworthy than my reputation makes me up to be. So do you need assistance in finding the right gang-members to interrogate?"

Erol swallowed. "I need a pain-killer first."

.

.

.

Erol judged whether he trusted Razer's statement or not. In the end, he took from it what he wanted to believe. Razer came out looking innocent, which he incidentally was.

Before that, they parted with a 'goodbye', but not a 'see you later', which neither knew they would.

(Erol would go on with his everyday, commanding an army half the time and doing undercover investigation work the other half.)

(Razer would go on to smear the accomplishment in Edje's smug face.)

.

.

…

((This might be the chapter with the most possible grammatical errors. I think I tend to write sentences that sound nice but are most likely not correct! But I don't always know when I'm making mistakes because I don't master the english grammar. I write what I think is right, and what sounds pleasing to read in my head. Feed-back would be a savior.))


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